


The Sorceress [Book 2] | Klaus Mikaelson

by LSdcvell



Series: The Sorceress [2]
Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Please Don't Hate Me, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:08:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 66,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27690497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LSdcvell/pseuds/LSdcvell
Summary: When Klaus Mikaelson makes an offer for Arabella Salvatore to join him in New Orleans, she accepts, never expecting for events to unfold quite the way they do. Trapped in the chaotic Mikaelson family drama, while also trying to take back a city she was exiled from, how will Arabella find a way to get over the feelings she has developed for Klaus? And more importantly, does she even want to?
Relationships: Klaus Mikaelson/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Sorceress [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2024981
Comments: 26
Kudos: 62





	1. Synopsis

"You're not a monster. To me, you didn't do the things you did because you were some irredeemable beast... you did them because you’re broken. And everything broken can be fixed.”  
  
  


•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

When Klaus Mikaelson makes an offer for Arabella Salvatore to join him in New Orleans, she accepts, never expecting for events to unfold quite the way they do. Trapped in the chaotic Mikaelson family drama, while also trying to take back a city she was exiled from, how will Arabella find a way to get over the feelings she has developed for Klaus? And more importantly, does she even want to?

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

** Warnings: ** _There are mentions of suicide and suicidal tendencies in this story, along with a lot of mentions of death. Obviously, I can't say exactly how, but this story does get pretty dark, so please proceed with caution if you get triggered easily, or if your mental health is in a low place._

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

This story takes place in the very beginning of season one of The Originals, and it is Book 2 in The Sorceress series. So if you haven't read book 1, go to my profile and read that first! Otherwise this story will probably make little to no sense haha.

Disclaimer: I think it's pretty obvious, but no, I do not own any TVD/TO storylines or characters. Only the ones I form in my own chaotic mess of a brain. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick little note, this story is also available on my Wattpad account (athenadcvell) along with some of my other stories. I put character aesthetics and gifs for each chapter, along with a playlist for the book if you wanna go check it out!


	2. Part One

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

_ "But every time I give you my trust, you break it like it never meant a thing to you. You break it like you break everything else… like it’s worthless." _

*

*

*

**_PART ONE_ **

*

*

*

_"Our souls are two broken pieces, shattered and beaten throughout the decades of our long lives. But with you... with you, I feel whole again."_

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•


	3. Chapter 1

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

New Orleans is everything Mystic Falls is not. Always full of life, never sleeping, and a vibrant energy that draws you in. The only similarities are the monsters lurking in every corner, hidden to the human eye until it's too late.

"I hate long car rides," Arabella Salvatore grumbles to herself as she slams the door of her silver Jaguar, stepping out into humid, summer approaching air.

Earlier that day, she had left Mystic Falls, for God knows how long. Bidding a quick goodbye to Damon, her eldest brother, and taking a small duffel bag filled with her things, Arabella was off and away. She had considered waiting until the date of the flight Klaus had booked, but decided against it. She had a strong and sudden urge to get away from Virginia, and here she is now, in Louisiana, seeking revenge against a man who may not even remember her.

She had been careful to not draw very much attention as she drove into the city, as to not get noticed by Marcel Gerard or his army of vampires, which could have only expanded in the last few decades. Just in case he _does_ remember her. Arabella, despite her small stature, would probably get noticed quite easily. A head of dark curls that fall to her chest, slender eyes the color of two pale jades, and sharp, defined features that seem to run in the Salvatore genetic pool. Her darker, caramel complexion is thanks to the Bedaux in her blood, as is her former witch heritage.

However, the one factor that would have every vampire out for her in head .2 seconds lays around her neck. A dark, purple amulet, encased in silver and held by a chain. To the naked eye, a clumpy, outdated piece of jewelry. To those a bit less oblivious? The Sorcerer's Talisman, an object infused with an unholy amount of magic that grants its powers to exactly one Host: aka, Arabella. The only connection she has left with her former witch self, and the number one reason why Marcel had to brick her up in The Garden in the first place, before her hasty escape.

She would never have come back to this city, not normally. However, with the most feared Supernatural creature on her side, the rules change.

Especially when there is a cluster of feelings held _towards_ said Supernatural creature. Though right now, she refuses to dwell on them. She's had a lengthy car ride to stress over what will happen here in NOLA, and now needs to focus on more dire matters at hand.

Arabella quickly smoothens down her outfit-- black jeans, a tucked in white tank and a beige coat with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, paired off with black heeled boots. Her curls are pulled up into a quick ponytail, some strands framing her face as sunglasses cover her eyes, despite it being nighttime.

She doesn't plan on staying in this house, but rather meeting Klaus here briefly before renting out a hotel room. Just to discuss a game plan, and how she would tie into his whole 'alliance' with Marcel. And how they would destroy him.

Throwing open the door, the vampire-witch strides into the towering white home, raising a brow at the quietness within. She can only hear one heartbeat-- a faint one, at that. She listens closely, hearing an even fainter heartbeat among it, along with the buzzing of the TV.

"Hello?" Arabella flicks a curl out of her vision and slips off her glasses. "Anybody home?"

"Who's there?" She looks up at the top of the staircase, raising a brow as Hayley Marshall's head of brunette waves peeks out from behind a wall. Her arm stretches out as well, shakily holding out a fire iron for defense.

"Hayley?" Arabella tilts her head to the side. "It's okay, Klaus called me," Hayley seems to relax at that, slowly lowering the iron and walking out from behind the wall. When she sees Arabella's face, relief seems to wash over her and she quickly comes down the stairs.

"Oh, God, I thought you were one of the witches or something," Hayley breathes, tossing the iron to the side. "Arabella, right? Klaus mentioned you were coming."

"Yup, that's me," Arabella studies her with thoughtful eyes. Hayley isn't showing yet, which is understandable, considering she's barely into her first trimester. The werewolf seems stressed and tired, by the looks of the bags under her eyes and slightly dulled skin. Clearly, Klaus hasn't been taking the best care of her.

But more importantly, Arabella focuses on her stomach, but rather what is _inside_. Being able to feel the auras of supernaturals, she can normally also determine the species of the unborn as well. The kind of blood that flows through their veins in the womb. However, as she attempts to feel the energy off of Klaus and Hayley's baby, it comes off as something she's never quite felt before. It feels like everything is being thrown at her at once, and she can't focus on a specific supernatural species. It's overwhelming.

"Hey!" Hayley's sudden anger snaps her out of it. Arabella looks up, finding the pregnant girl holding her stomach protectively with a flame in her eyes. "Your eyes were glowing, what the hell did you just do?"

"Oh, I- uh- sorry," Arabella holds a hand up with a sheepish smile. She hadn't realized she was using _that_ much magic. "I was trying to see the species of your child. It was just a little... _harder_ than usual," Hayley still seems on edge, but loosens her grip on her stomach.

"Okay..." She swallows, looking down. "So what is... _it?_ "

"No clue," Arabella shakes her head. "But it's fine, the baby's heartbeat seems healthy enough. It'll be easier to tell as the months go on," Hayley nods, leaning against a side table. "So, where is Klaus?"

"Who knows? He goes out all day, comes back for like, five minutes to make sure I'm not dead, and then leaves again," Hayley shrugs, rolling her eyes. "Not that I'm complaining. He's an ass."

"What about Elijah?" Arabella asks, walking past her and eyeing the interior of the house. It's decorated elegantly, like everything Mikaelson always is.

" _Elijah_ was promising to protect me and giving speeches about family, and then he just disappeared," Hayley explains, hiding the hurt in her voice. "He bailed," Arabella turns around slowly, her brows furrowing together.

"He gave you his word?" Hayley nods skeptically. "Then I don't think he just bailed," The younger frowns.

"Where do you think he is?" Arabella opens her mouth to respond, until she sees the sudden worry in Hayley's hazel eyes. Seeing as she's already pregnant with an Original's baby, Arabella decides it's best not to worry her.

"Taking care of business, probably," She shrugs, quickly changing the subject. "And Rebekah is with Matt in Europe, which means Klaus is the only one here. Great," She walks into the living room, Hayley following shortly.

"I made coffee, if you want some," Hayley motions to her barely touched cup, and Arabella stares at it distastefully.

"Coffee? With caffeine?"

"A little can't hurt," Hayley mumbles. "Besides, what do you care? What are you, a doctor?" Arabella gives her a knowing look. "Wait, seriously?"

"I am many things," Arabella leans down and picks up the cup before the younger girl can drink more. "And starting now, you need to start monitoring your diet."

"I thought you came to help Klaus, not play midwife?"

"I did," Arabella nods, turning and walking to the bar tray to grab a drink. Truthfully, Klaus had texted her asking for her to check up on Hayley, make sure the baby is alright, all that. Arabella had _told_ him to take her for a proper check-up, but he refused, thinking someone would jump out and try to kill her. And yet, he _still_ tries to claim he could care less about Hayley or the baby. "So, how are you feeling?"

"I haven't had morning sickness yet, but I read that can come later," She plays with the sleeves of her thin cardigan. "And, uh, the baby's fine, I guess."

"I didn't ask about the baby," Arabella turns back around with a glass of whiskey. "I asked about you. How do you feel about all this?" Hayley scoffs, uncrossing her legs and leaning forward.

"I don't need a therapist, Arabella."

"Your mental health is important regarding the baby's growth and development."

"Well, you can tell Klaus his little spawn is growing just fine," Hayley snaps, catching the vampire off guard. Well, sort of.

Hayley is far more like Klaus than she had initially thought. Stubborn, snarky, and major trust and abandonment issues buried beneath all that. Their baby should be... _interesting_.

"Well, good to see you two getting along," Klaus Mikaelson walks into the room with a little pep in his step, seeming in a fairly good mood, all things considered. He smiles at Arabella with raised brows. "You came sooner than expected. Wasted a perfectly good plane ticket."

"Klaus," Arabella jerks her head to the side. "Can I talk to you for a sec?" Klaus follows her into the hallway, away from Hayley's hearing. "She doesn't seem too happy."

"Who ever is?"

"You know, there are options," Arabella reminds him gently. "Neither of you seem too happy about the idea of parenthood. You could always..." She trails off, letting him put together the rest. Klaus purses his lips, shaking his head.

"The witches have linked one of their own to Hayley, and threatened me. To back down would be a sign of weakness," She almost rolls her eyes at his words. Of course Klaus looks at this child as a grab for power.

"And your brother?" She changes the subject, eyes narrowing. "Hayley thinks he just packed up and left, but we both know that's not true. So," She leans closer, arching a brow and lowering her voice. "Where're you keeping his coffin?" Klaus smirks mischievously, shrugging.

"As I told you back in Mystic Falls, my emotional fool of a brother thinks this child will grant some form of tranquility upon our family. My main focus is Marcel, not fatherhood," Arabella sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation.

"Klaus, as much I hate Marcel, I am not going to bend my morals and get some pregnant woman killed because you want to be king."

"No harm will come to Hayley," Klaus snaps, eyeing the werewolf in the other room. "I made sure of that by agreeing to the terms of those pesky witches."

"Why _are_ the witches involved?"

"They linked the life of one of their own to her, as a threat," Klaus explains bitterly. "Threatened _me_. They want Marcel's power stripped away more than we do; he has a way, though I'm not sure how, to tell when the witches are practicing magic. He'll publicly execute any of them who dare to break his rules."

"He's doing _what?_ " Arabella hisses, crossing her arms tightly. "Dammit, he's gotten worse. He must have a witch on his side, that's the only way. I need to talk to the coven witches."

"They're a cruel little bunch now."

"No, they're desperate," Arabella defends them, ignoring the look Klaus gives her. "Marcel is killing them for being who they are, I don't blame them for taking drastic measures," She suddenly frowns, a new thought coming to mind. "Only thing I don't get is why they need _you_. Some can argue you're worse than Marcel."

"He and I... were friends. Long ago, I turned him," Klaus explains briefly, clearing his throat. "I taught him much of what he knows-- he trusts me. Therefore, I'm the perfect candidate to take him out," The younger vampire hides the suspicion she begins to feel. She has an uneasy feeling that there is something Klaus isn't telling her, but pushes it down. If they're to trust each other, she can't be questioning him every time he makes a move.

"And how is this going to work? Me coming back into town without Marcel killing me where I stand?" Klaus' lips pull up.

"You leave that to me, love. Now," He looks up, finding that Hayley has left to bed. "I had a maid make up a room for you upstairs at the end of the hall," Arabella's eyes widen, shaking her head quickly.

"Um, no, I never agreed to live with you and your baby mama," She holds a finger up. "I just came to discuss a game plan, before staying at a hotel."

"Absolutely not," Klaus refuses sternly. "As you said, there is nothing stopping Marcel from killing you where you stand, except for your association with me. He has eyes everywhere, Arabella--"

"I'm more than capable of taking care of myself. Not to mention, did you know this property was owned by a slave owner? No way am I staying here."

"You're safest by my side," He reminds her. "The only thing keeping you from getting buried in The Garden is this city's fear of me. Marcel will not think to look here for us," Klaus lays a hand on her shoulder. "Be smart," With that, he turns and leaves down the hall. Arabella _wants_ to argue, though a bigger part of her knows he's right. Besides. She has to prepare.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Agnes lights the last of the candles in the Lafayette Cemetery crypt, sighing softly to herself as she does. Trouble is brewing, she can feel it. And yet, her fellow witches refuse to see things to her level.

Light footsteps echo through the crypt, causing the Elder to look up. A small gasp escapes her lips as she sees a figure emerge into the soft glow of the firelight.

"Oh," She breathes, dark eyes widening. "Arabella Salvatore."

"Agnes," Arabella greets in return, smiling politely. "It's been awhile."

"You recognize me? It's been so long."

"Even in your youth, you always did carry such a unique energy," Arabella purses her lips, running a hand across the stone scribings on the wall. "I heard you're the last Elder left in the Quarter."

"Bastianna has passed," Agnes explains somberly, shaking her head. "May she rest in peace. Killed by one of Marcel's men."

"For what reason?"

"Power," Agnes dodges the question, adjusting her headband. "What are you doing here, child? A lot of us thought you must've died along the years," Arabella looks away, licking her lips nervously.

"I... ran," She says. "In fear of being put back in The Garden. But I'm back now, to take him down," Arabella frowns suddenly. "You know, when I first met you and Bastianna, I thought you were both crazy. For the lines you were willing to cross to free the witches, but I see now. I understand."

"Good. Then you'll cross those lines with us?"

"To an extent," Arabella looks up, raising a brow. "Threatening Klaus was a risky move. I can try to keep him in check--"

"So it's true?" Agnes' gaze turns dark, catching Arabella by surprise. She knows Agnes can be extreme at times, but there's almost something... _psychotic_ about her now. "There were whispers among the witches that The Sorceress was coming back with a Mikaelson, but I didn't believe it. You're working with the devil?"

"You need to trust me, Agnes," Arabella tells her firmly. "If Klaus and I can gain Marcel's trust, and take him down, then he's agreed to let me give freedom back to the witches."

"We don't want freedom," The Elder snaps. "We want complete control."

"One step at a time," Arabella closes her eyes for a moment, allowing the warm wind to tickle the back of her neck. "Just help me out here, okay? Keep the witches in line, and let me do what I can."

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"Marcel!" Klaus smiles widely at the vampire as he walks into the bar that afternoon, earning a few dirty looks from fellow vamps, but he pays them no attention. Marcel Gerard, dressed casually in a red tee and jeans, looks up from one of his men he had been speaking to, returning the smile.

"Klaus," He stands up, nodding over to a booth. "You're late. You told me to get here fifteen minutes ago."

"Well, I had assumed we would meet alone," Klaus dangerously eyes Marcel's men. The younger vampire chuckles, shrugging.

"I like to have my friends close."

"I thought I was a friend."

"You are!" Marcel corrects him enthusiastically, clasping a hand on his shoulder. He whistles for the bartender to bring Klaus a drink, before nodding to his vamps. Uneasily, they begin leaving. "There. All gone. Now," He leans back, taking a swig of his beer. "What's up?"

"You remember how I told you I was in Mystic Falls?" Klaus begins, thanking the bartender as she sets a beer in front of him. Marcel nods. "Well, I formed some alliances there. One was with this woman whom I befriended."

"Ah, was she a friend, or a _friend?_ " Marcel laughs loudly at his own words. Klaus' smile falters in the slightest, but he shakes his head.

"At one point, I thought we could be more... but she made it clear we were to stay as allies and nothing else."

"Well, forget her. New Orleans has a wide selection for you, my man," Marcel stretches his arms out. Klaus chuckles.

"Perhaps. Anyways," He leans forward, getting back to point. "I invited her here, to come stay. She too loves this city."

"Who wouldn't?"

"Exactly, and, you know what? I believe you may know her," A sly smile stretches across Klaus' lips, his eyes drifting to the entrance of the bar. "You can see for yourself, there she is now," He waves his fingers, Marcel turning to see who he's waving to.

His face immediately drops. Arabella walks into the bar with confidence practically dripping off of her, keeping the fear and anxiousness at bay with a small smile and calm eyes. She's dressed sharply in a white top tucked into a fitting beige skirt, a similar colored coat slipped on top that reaches to the bottom of it. Her hair is straightened and pulled back into a low ponytail, the Talisman sitting on top of her chest, standing out from the simple colored outfit.

It's that way for a reason. She wants Marcel to _know_ she doesn't fear his no magic rule.

Arabella waves back to Klaus, sending a cruel smirk to Marcel and heading to the bar for a drink. As soon as she turns around, Marcel whips back to his sire with a flame in his eyes.

"Do you know who the hell that is?"

"Her name is Arabella Salva--"

"I know who she is!" Marcel hisses, leaning forward. "I welcomed her into this city with open arms, and she tried to start a _revolution_ against me. Locked her up till some damn witches let her out, and I didn't chase her down cause she wasn't worth the hunt. And now you bring her _here_?" He suddenly laughs, though there is a nervous edge to it. "I mean, you understand I have to lock her up, right? It was stupid for Arabella to come back to town."

"You will do no such thing," Klaus points a finger at Marcel darkly. "Arabella is with me. You touch her, and my wrath will be what you get in return. Besides," His smiles up at the younger vampire as she walks towards them. "She's turned over a new leaf."

"That I have," Arabella slides into the bench beside Klaus, smiling pleasantly at Marcel. "Hello, Gerard."

"Salvatore," Marcel's jaw clenches uneasily, his eyes zeroing in on the necklace. "Haven't seen you since you ran off with the Dominguez twins. How are they, by the way? Shame about their mom and brother," Arabella's fingers tighten around her Sazerac.

"Last I heard they were dead," She shrugs, bringing the glass to her lips and adding, "Never spoke to them after they freed me."

"Hm," Marcel hums. "Klaus here tells me you're turning over a new leaf?"

"I'm detaching myself from the witches," She explains, setting her glass down. "Nasty things. Took me too long to realize how unwelcome I am, so I'm done. Now, I just consider myself a vampire with a little something extra on the side."

"And why come back?"

"I missed this city," Arabella looks out the window, a content look in her green eyes as she watches humans pass by. "Have you ever been to Mystic Falls, Marcel? It's a boring little town."

"An unremarkable town with very unremarkable people," Klaus adds. Arabella pinches his side under the table, and he covers his grunt of pain by clearing his throat and sitting straighter. "Though some do stand out among the rest, I suppose," Marcel keeps his frown on Arabella.

"And I'm supposed to trust you?"

"No," Klaus cuts in, clasping his hands together and leaning forward. "But you trust me, and so does Arabella. Allow your mutual alliance with myself to serve as leverage enough for the two of you."

"I'm willing to settle for peace if you are, Marcel."

Marcel eyes the two of them with a hardset gaze, grinding his teeth as he considers their words. Both Arabella and Klaus, though they keep a calm face, nervously wait for his answer. Things will be far more complicated if he doesn't agree to make amends with Arabella.

"Well... any friend of Klaus is a friend of mine," A wide, infectious grin breaks across his face. "Welcome back to New Orleans, baby!"

Arabella smiles, almost in relief, and Klaus lets a quiet sigh.

They're in.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to very briefly explain Arabella as a character to jog everyone's memory, but the details are back in book 1! Also, I'll be publishing the first five chapters right now, but I haven't written as much of this book as I had with book 1. So, the updates will probably be a tad bit slower, but I usually write everyday and will work to get the chapters out to you guys! I try to edit them before I publish, since I hate going back in later on, which is why it may take me a bit of time to get each chapter up. 
> 
> Hope y'all liked the chapter! Lmk what you think:)


	4. Chapter 2

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

It's been an entire summer since Klaus and Arabella decided to worm their ways into Marcel's inner circle, and learn the workings of his mind and city. Two months, where they slowly but surely made plans on how to stop him. Two extremely slow months. In those two months, Arabella has stayed out of Mikaelson business as much as possible. 

When she _is_ home, she spends most of her time either calling Damon out of boredom (who has been slowly considering blocking her) or texting back Caroline (who loves to update her with every bit of news going on in Virginia). She's also begun to journal much more frequently. Stefan used to be the person she would share all her problems to, seeing as he was the most understanding of the Salvatore siblings. However, considering he hasn't called, and Arabella is too petty to be the first to break the silence, journaling is the next thing. And when she isn't home doing any of those, she's with Marcel, right next to Klaus.

The relationship between the hybrid and her is... _complicated_ , to say the least. It's almost annoying. Arabella knew coming here with him to New Orleans was not the best for getting rid of feelings, but it doesn't change the fact that she's still trying to do just that. However, his constant flirts and suggestive comments help no one. It's hard to avoid him outside, but at home, she tries to spend more time talking with Hayley, and seeing that the Original and the werewolf rarely ever get along, he leaves them be. Besides, it allows her to learn more about this phenomenon of a pregnancy, and also talk with another member of the female gender for once. 

As for Marcel, he's still iffy about her, as she is with him, but the vampire-witch can tell he's slowly warming up. Slowly trusting her again, if even in the slightest. It's not much, but it's something. She understands why, too. Having the Sorceress on his side makes him all that more powerful, and if there is one thing Marcel loves, it's power. It's odd how alike he and Klaus are, however, Arabella pushes that thought aside and decides that he just gained influence from Klaus during their friendship years ago.

It's nighttime in New Orleans as a sleek, red convertible pulls up to the Mikaelson Mansion, a certain blonde Original stepping out and slamming the car door in frustration.

"Elijah, if not picking up the phone is part of your clever plan to get me back into this godforsaken city, then well done. I'm here, and I'm worried," She stops, scowling up at the house. "Now pick up before I kick in your bloody door," With those final words, she hangs up and stuffs the phone away, marching into the Plantation.

As Rebekah Mikaelson steps through the doors, she's met with a series of horrible, and some good, memories. But mostly horrible.

"Who the hell are you?" Hayley wearily walks down the stairs, wielding her trusty fire iron for protection.

"Oh, you must be the maid," Rebekah observes without really paying her any attention. "My bags are in the car-- get them, will you?"

Hayley smiles sarcastically, lowering her weapon. "Hello. Not the maid."

"Right," Rebekah clicks her tongue. "You're that werewolf girl my brother, Klaus, knocked up. I was expecting to see some kind of supernatural, miracle baby bump. Guess you're not showing yet. It's Hayley, isn't it?"

"You have your brother's manners."

"And his temper too, so watch it. Where's Elijah?"

As Hayley explains that Elijah just disappeared, assuming that he packed up and left, Arabella jogs down the stairs. She was meditating in her room, and is now famished. Unfortunately, Klaus isn't a big fan of blood bags, so she'll just have to drink straight from the source. AKA, the maid.

"Oh, hell no," Arabella halts in her tracks, her face falling as she sees Rebekah. The older vampire looks up, smiling wryly.

"Hello, Arabella. _You_ must be the maid. Be a dear and get my bags?"

"I thought you would be in Europe with Matt for at least another month?" Arabella ignores her, speeding the rest of the way down and standing beside Hayley.

"Cut it short."

"So you came _here_?"

"This is _my_ house, you little--"

"Rebekah was just asking about Elijah," Hayley cuts in, sensing the tension. Arabella scoffs, catching the blonde off guard.

"You know where he is," Rebekah accuses.

"No, I don't. Elijah wasn't here when I came."

"Well, our little pregnant wolf says he made promises, and then just left. So," Rebekah crosses her arms. "Tell me. Does that sound like Elijah?"

"Nope, but I'm not getting involved with Mikaelson drama," Arabella jabs a thumb behind her. "Take it up with your brother."

And she does. Rebekah screams for Klaus, following his name with a series of insults. Hayley flinches at the sudden tone change, while Arabella just watches with amused eyes.

"I-is this normal?" She asks quietly to the youngest vampire.

"You ever have siblings?" Hayley gives her a look. "Oh, right. Orphan. Yes, this is normal, and if Rebekah sticks around, you can get used to mornings just like this."

"Oh, _great_."

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"What's going on?" 

The next day was rather uneventful-- Arabella had spent some time with Marcel's group, getting to see him add a new addition, Josh, who Klaus later compelled. Then she had come back to the mansion to safely practice some magic, until the sounds of Rebekah, Hayley and Klaus filled the outdoors. She had come out, only to find Klaus angrily piling bodies while the two girls watched. 

"Hayley here, in her infinite wisdom, went for a stroll in the Quarter, and now, we have three dead vampires on our hands," Klaus replies to Arabella dramatically, motioning between the pregnant girl and the dead bodies. "This should settle well with Marcel."

"Are you okay?" Arabella leans and asks Hayley, who seems rather embarrassed and shaken up. She nods, pressing her lips together tightly.

"Of course _she's_ okay," Klaus snaps. "Marcel's men, on the other hand, are very much dead. Arabella," She rolls her eyes at his theatrics. "Please set up the torture room. I need to bleed one of these imbeciles dry and compel him to cover for us," He points to the only breathing one of the bunch.

"Yeah, okay," Arabella sends Hayley a look that says, _He's extra_ , before turning on her heel and walking back into the house.

As she sets up some chains and tools in the basement for the vampire, Arabella hears a loud thump come from upstairs, followed by Klaus' yells, Hayley's screams, and Rebekah's protests.

"What the hell?" She mumbles, dropping the knives and speeding upstairs. Her eyes widen in shock as Klaus holds Hayley against the wall, strangling her, while Rebekah attempts to get him to lay off. The younger Mikaelson clearly scared to stand up against her brother in fear of a dagger to the heart. " _Motus!_ " Arabella, however, is not scared of him.

Klaus flies back and hits the stairs banister, Hayley dropping to the floor. She rushes towards the werewolf, but not before glaring down at Klaus.

"What the _hell_ is wrong with you?" She snaps, turning around and helping Hayley up. "Are you okay?" Hayley nods mutely, her hands covering her throat as she takes in deep breaths.

"She is pregnant, for God's sake!" Rebekah storms up to her brother. "All this bluster about wanting a child, and then the second she tells you she's ready to get rid of it... ?" She trails off, and Klaus' glassy eyes drift over to Hayley, regret seeming to swirl in them. His gaze snaps to Arabella, opening his mouth to say something, but she pays him no attention. Instead, she slings an arm protectively around Hayley's shoulder and ushers her out of the home.

"You didn't bruise," Arabella observes with knitted brows as herself and Hayley go into the backyard, taking seats on the pool chairs. The younger shrugs, still shaken up from earlier. "Hayley..."

Arabella sighs looking down at her hands. She has a sneaking suspicion she is _seriously_ going to regret saying what she's about to say, but it has to be said.

"There's a spell," She begins in a hushed tone, catching the brunette's attention. "It... it'll make it look like a miscarriage. An accident, caused by stress, or something. I'll talk Klaus into letting you go, alive, and you'll be free of all of this... _crap_."

Hayley stares back at Arabella with wide eyes, her hands instinctively drifting up to her stomach. "I thought you're on Klaus' side? You guys were friends--"

"We are," Arabella cuts in with a small sigh, playing with the chain of her Talisman. "And I honestly don't know if Klaus is going to be good father, or if he even _wants_ to be a dad... but I do know one thing-- no one should be forced into motherhood. You can get rid of the fetus, live a normal life..." She trails off, raising a brow. "It's your choice, Hayley."

"No," She honestly didn't expect that answer, but Hayley shakes her head firmly. "I- I had a chance, today. And I didn't take it, because... I don't know. Maybe I'll make a crappy mom, and I know for a fact chaos will break out as soon as this baby is born, but... I do _want_ it to be born. I want this baby," Hayley's voice trembles, and she quickly clears it. "B-but thank you. For offering," Arabella nods, with a small smile on her lips.

"Of course," She replies. A small pang of guilt hits her, realizing Klaus probably feels the same way. Despite all his rants about not wanting to be a father... perhaps he truly does. And she almost took that away from him.

"What if Klaus finds out?" Hayley suddenly frowns. "He'll kill you--"

"He won't touch me."

"How can you be sure? I mean, I thought I was safe, at least until I had this baby, but he just _strangled_ me," Hayley points out. "I know I put up a tough cover, but honestly, Klaus terrifies me. Even his own siblings are scared of him, how are _you_ not?" Arabella purses her lips, looking up at the starry sky.

"When you get to see a side of someone... a side that you can understand and relate to... you start to realize that they're not exactly the monster everyone else thinks them to be."

"And you don't think Klaus is a monster?" She opens her mouth to respond, but another person cuts in.

"Niklaus is quite a monster, thank you very much. And I would hate to see his reaction to the offer you just made, Salvatore," Arabella's blood runs cold at the voice, looking up to see Rebekah walking towards them, seeming quite exasperated.

"Are you going to tell your brother?"

"No. I wouldn't have stopped you, to be honest," Rebekah admits, taking a seat on Hayley's other side.

"Look, I know neither of you know me very well," Hayley sits straighter. "But thanks. I appreciate what you both did in there."

"Us girls have got to stick together," Rebekah shrugs, looking over Hayley to Arabella. "I know you and I were enemies in Mystic Falls, but we are allies now, whether you like it or not. Let's agree to put the pettiness behind us?"

"Agreed," Arabella sighs tiredly, leaning back against the chair. She doesn't trust Rebekah, but she won't turn down her alliance either. Seeing as she basically got herself involved in Mikaelson drama tonight, it's good to not be at odds with any of them.

"Marcel has Elijah," Rebekah says suddenly, catching both the wolf and vamp off guard. "My arse of a brother traded him in as a peace offering."

"So why don't you go get him?" Hayley asks eagerly, clearly worried about the eldest living Original.

"Daggers and coffins," Arabella explains for her, earning a nod in agreement from Rebekah. Hayley looks between the two, before sitting up and reaching behind her back, pulling out something wrapped in black cloth that she had tucked into her waistband. She unwraps it, revealing two sliver white oak ash daggers. Both vampires stare at it in shock. "Holy crap."

"I found them under your coffin. So, if a couple of antique steak knives were the only things stopping you from getting Elijah back, then here you go."

"Damn," Arabella raises a brow as Rebekah takes them in awe. "I'm really liking this alliance."

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•


	5. Chapter 3

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"So this Davina," Arabella slumps back in the arm chair she sits in. "Who is she and how is she blocking my magic?"

Herself, Klaus, Rebekah, and a French Quarter witch, Sophie Deveraux, all are gathered in the Mikaelson study that afternoon. Klaus stands over her chair, leaning on it, as Rebekah paces and Sophie watches them all nervously from the couch, playing with her wristbands. 

Arabella tries to ignore it, but Klaus' hands casually play with some of her curls, straightening them out and allowing them to bounce back into their original shape. He doesn't even seem to notice he's doing it, but _she_ does. She very much notices it, and tries not to let it distract her too much. 

Yesterday, Rebekah had discovered Elijah's location, as well as Marcel's secret weapon-- a powerful teenage witch named Davina Claire. However, Davina had wiped her mind, though it shouldn't have been too much trouble considering Arabella could do magic without getting tracked.

Only problem? Davina managed to block any magic that wasn't New Orleans born, meaning she was utterly useless in the situation. However, Sophie was not, only she was too frightened of getting the same fate as her elder sister-- death by vampire for breaking the rules.

"She's a powerful witch," Sophie explains shortly, laying her palms out as she speaks. "One that our coven wants back. It's one of the many reasons why we want Marcel gone."

"See, here's the thing," Klaus' hands leave her hair as he walks around, taking a seat in the chair beside Arabella. "I don't particularly care for this little witch, but she is becoming a rather pestilent problem. So, we need magic-- New Orleans born, magic."

"Davina would sense it," Sophie presses. Rebekah thinks for a moment, before proposing a new plan. One that consisted of Katie-- the witch who sold out Hayley-- to perform a spell as well that is much larger in scale, and allows Sophie to have time to do the locator spell. It takes some convincing (and threats, on Klaus' part), but Sophie finally agrees. As soon as she does, Klaus nods for Arabella to follow him into the hall.

"I have a plan," He begins, jaw clenching. "But you won't be too fond of it. It involves some witches having to die."

"No," Arabella immediately shakes her head. "No more dying witches, Klaus."

"To be fair, it would Katie. She _does_ deserve it, after trying to get Hayley killed."

"Do I agree with her shady morals? No, _but_ ," Arabella holds a finger up. "Every witch is on thin ice around here. Marcel is going insane with power."

"I need to gain Marcel's full trust," Klaus urges. "Katie and Sophie will undoubtedly attempt to kill him as well, and I can't have that."

"I thought that was the whole point."

Klaus falters at her words, but is quick to recover. "Yes... yes it is. Do you trust me, Arabella?" He stares her squarely in the eyes, and she's unable to look away as he catches her gaze. After a moment, the younger vampire nods. "Good. Then will you be on my side with this?"

Arabella hesitates. She _should_ say no, seeing as that's the smarter decision. But is it? Is it really? Perhaps, the logical decision is to let Katie die. After all, they are in war, and every war has its casualties. Arabella nods again, and Klaus lets out an almost silent sigh of relief, laying a hand on her shoulder before turning and leaving the mansion.

As soon as he's gone, Arabella turns around and goes back into the study, where Sophie still sits, thinking. Rebekah had gone off to check in on Hayley, and get ready for some party Marcel is throwing later tonight. Arabella had _told_ Klaus she would stay home with Hayley, but he refused, seeing as Marcel had invited _both_ of them.

"You know, Agnes thinks you can help us," Sophie looks up at Arabella as she walks in, hands tucked into the pockets of her jeans. "And the rest of us, the younger witches, we heard stories about The Sorceress growing up. But I'm not so sure."

"No?"

"No," Sophie shakes her head. "Because you're working with Klaus Mikaelson."

"I already told Agnes," Arabella sits back down on the armchair with a sigh. "Klaus trusts me-- somewhat. By killing Marcel, I can give freedom back to the witches. Why does everyone think I'm gonna betray the witch faction?"

"Oh no, I'm sure you'll _try_ to do justice by the witches," Sophie raises a brow. "I'm just not so sure Klaus will let you hurt Marcel. Especially considering their history."

"Yeah, he turned him and they were friends. So what?"

"Well," Sophie scoffs, taking out her phone to check her notifications. "I think friends is a bit of an understatement."

"What do you mean?" Arabella frowns, leaning forward. Sophie looks up, suddenly seeming regretful of what she said. "Sophie?"

"I don't want to cause any more trouble, seeing as Klaus already hates me enough," Sophie says, raising her hands. "Did he not tell you?"

"Tell me _what_? What don't I know?"

"You know... how Klaus basically adopted Marcel when he was a kid?" Arabella's mouth suddenly goes dry. "According to Rebekah, he took him in, raised him, loved him, turned him... until their father came and they thought he died. Rebekah thinks at the end of the day, no matter how much he talks... Klaus isn't going to let anyone hurt Marcel. I mean, they're basically family."

Arabella can only stare at the young witch in shock. She knew that Klaus turned Marcel, and that he thought him to be dead after Mikael found them in the early 1900s. However, all that about Marcel being Klaus' adopted _son_? No. She hadn't known any of that.

Klaus never told her.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"Get home soon-- we'll be leaving in a bit," Klaus leans forward and hangs up the phone, from which he had been speaking to Rebekah with. He sits at his desk in the house, preparing for tonight by gathering some papers to plant on a certain vampire and witch in Marcel's inner circle.

Arabella practically throws his door open, interrupting this process. She stands at the doorway, anger bubbling inside her. Yet, she keeps a calm face, for the time being. 

After Sophie revealed what she knew, the vampire-witch had taken some time to think over her next moves. Think what she's going to say to Klaus, and finally, she settled with just going up to him and yelling. That always seems to do the trick.

"Arabella," Klaus raises a brow in amusement, setting down the envelope he had just sealed. "If you're here to talk your way out of the charity event tonight, I'm afraid it's mandatory. Marcel will be suspicious if we're not both there."

"I'm not," She snaps, cutting right to the chase. "Why didn't you tell me Marcel is your son?"

Klaus stiffens noticeably, quick to try and compose himself. "Because he is not."

"Really?" Arabella crosses her arms distrustfully. "So you didn't adopt him and give him a home? Raise him and teach him everything he knows? _Love_ him?" Klaus sighs, conflicted with how to handle this situation. "You lied to me!"

"I did not lie-- I simply withheld the truth."

"Are you even _hearing_ yourself right now?" He seems to struggle with his words.

"There was a point, in my life, when I considered Marcel as my own flesh and blood," He finally says, looking up. "I did raise him, and I did view him as family. I even gave him his name-- Marcellus. But this town?" Klaus slowly stands up, laying his hands flat on the table. " _New Orleans_ is the city my family built. We made it everything it is. Mikael drove us away, and I thought him to be dead. When he died, I felt like... like I lost a piece of me," Klaus averts his gaze, jaw clenching. "Only to find that he was alive, claiming _my_ city as his own, calling himself _King_! All our former relations are gone-- I want to take this city back, Arabella."

"You know what I want?" Arabella slowly walks forward, a dangerous flicker in her eye. " _I_ want to feel Marcel's beating heart in my hand, watch his face as I pull it out and he desiccates at my feet. I want to kill him, for _everything_ he's done-- every witch he's killed without reason, every vampire he's locked away for 'breaking' his rules, and every creature he's terrorized in his reign," She stops in front of Klaus, narrowing her eyes. "Now tell me the truth. At the end of the day, you were never _really_ planning on letting me kill him, were you?"

He stares back at her, opening and closing his mouth, before finally looking down at the table. Arabella scoffs, nodding.

"Right," She flips on her heel and storms to the door.

"Arabella, wai--" Klaus doesn't get a chance to stop her, the younger slamming the door behind her.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"Arabella? Arabella! _Arabel_ \--!" Rebekah stops at the Salvatore's door, glaring at her. "I know you heard me."

"Can't you see I'm meditating?" Arabella doesn't open her eyes, sitting cross legged on the floor of her bedroom. A variety of crystals gently levitate around her.

"You can do your witchy woo later," Rebekah continues into the room, flicking the crystals one by one. They all clatter to the floor, and Arabella winces as each one falls.

"Rude, _and_ dangerous."

"Which one?" It's just then Arabella realizes Rebekah is holding two large garment bags. She sets them on the bed, unzipping them just enough to reveal what lays beneath. 

In the first one, lays a slimming, velvet black strapless gown, simple apart from the gold detailing on the edges. The next is a similar fitted black gown, however, the material shimmers under the light and there is a slit running up the side. On one shoulder is a long sleeve, the other simply being held up by a clear strap. A lacey black masquerade mask sits between them, decorated intricately with violet lacing and attached to a black stick.

"Uh, I was just going to wear one of my old dresses," Arabella awkwardly points to the closet. "Maybe the one from your family's ball?"

"Nonsense," Rebekah crosses her arms. "If you are going to appear alongside my family, you will wear nothing but the best, and my dresses are the _best_. Plus, you can go ahead and consider this a peace offering, for, you know... compelling secrets out of you and trying to kill you via Lockwood werewolf," She waves her hand off, as if it were just a casual misunderstanding.

"Ah yes, a dress _does_ make up for all that," Arabella tells her bluntly. The blonde rolls her eyes.

"Well, pick one already. Niklaus and I are wearing black as well, so it's only fitting for you to go along with our color theme," The younger vamp sighs, standing up from the floor and walking over to the bed and inspecting them. After a moment, she runs her hand against the shimmering one. "You have an eye for the lavish. That one beats the other by a good two thousand."

Arabella hums, trying not to act too shocked. Despite being a vampire, and being able to compel herself anything she wishes, even _she_ does not extend to wearing the priciest materials. Considering all three of the Mikaelson siblings closets, they beg to differ.

Rebekah leaves after that, grumbling about having to get ready and outshine someone Marcel has his eye on, allowing Arabella to prepare in peace. She does a smokey eye with a mauve lip, straightening then curling her hair and using an unholy amount of gel and bobby pins to sweep it to the side of her bare shoulder. And atop all that, the jewel of the Talisman sits upon her chest.

Strapping on her thigh holster filled with spells, and snatching her mask, she finally descends down the grand staircase to meet Rebekah and Klaus downstairs. Both siblings have already gotten ready, Rebekah in a strapless black gown with a bow around the middle, a large neck and head piece used to accessorize. However, Klaus is the one to catch her eye, dressed sharply in a crisp black suit, holding a black devil's mask in one hand.

She wants to roll her eyes at his ironic choice of headwear, but finds herself feeling quite nervous staring at him dressed like this.

Unknown to her, Klaus feels the same as he watches her walk down the staircase, not bothering to hide his captivated expression.

As Arabella gets to the bottom of the platform, she stops once in front of them, waiting for the siblings to continue forward. Klaus opens his mouth to speak.

"You look--"

"Don't," She cuts him off with a glare, shoving past him and out the door. Rebekah snickers by his side.

"I love watching women with common sense turn you down, Nik."

"This is _your_ fault," He accuses, pointing a finger at her. "If you hadn't gone off blabbing our life story to the incessant Sophie Deveraux, none of this would have happened."

"None of what? Arabella realizing how terribly mistaken she was to follow you here?" Rebekah sneers, turning on her heel and following the vampire-witch out the door.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

As the trio arrives at The Abattoir that evening for Marcel's masquerade gala, they can't help but all gape in admiration at the extravagant and dark decorum. The building is filled with guests, most of whom are vamps and high class humans, all made up in expensive clothing and masks. Acrobats hang from silky ropes on the ceilings, and dancers move mesmerizingly with exotic animals by their sides, shimmering confetti sprinkling down from above. It's quite a sight to behold.

"I'm getting a drink," Arabella murmurs to Rebekah, not sparing Klaus a glance as she leaves to find the bar. As per usual, she hates parties, however, having to attend one while she's this pissed off at Klaus? Far worse. "Bourbon, neat," The bartender nods to her request as the vampire sets down her mask.

"Arabella, you clean up nice," Marcel comes up by her side, dressed in a clean black suit with red detailing.

"Marcel Gerard," Arabella smiles bitterly. "Or should I say Mikaelson?" Marcel chuckles, shaking his head and looking down.

"I see Klaus finally told you about our history. I was waiting for him to fess up," That simply aggravates her further. Klaus _knew_ she would be angry, and yet, he still continued to withhold the truth. Why is she even surprised at this point? "But it _is_ Gerard. I ain't a Mikaelson, never have been. Never will be."

She scoffs at this, but says nothing. Arabella knows how family works. You have feuds, try to kill each other, but at the end of the day, you _are_ family. Changing your name and distancing yourself changes none of that. She keeps from telling Marcel any of this, however.

"You know," Marcel leans on the bar counter, raising a brow. "There's a witch hunt going down in The Cauldron tonight."

"So I've heard."

"You're not gonna try to stop it, are you?" He pushes. Arabella side eyes him.

"Now why would I do that, Marcel?"

"Well, you know, I've been hearing things. People talk, and the other vamps don't really trust you. Thierry thinks you're full of it, to be honest, but you didn't hear that from me," He rolls his shoulders with a little shrug. "Thinks you're trying to take me down."

" _Thierry_ has been full of it since the 70's," She sneers into her glass at the thought of Marcel's right hand. "And besides, if I wanted to take you down, don't you think I would've done that over two months ago when I first got here?"

"Yeah, well, you could be playing the long game," Marcel points out. "Patience is key. You know who taught me that?" He nods over to where Rebekah and Klaus stand. Arabella snorts.

" _Klaus_ taught you that patience is key? That's ironic."

"Listen, _Bella_ ," He smiles coyly, in an almost threatening manner. "I'm glad to have you back on my side, I am. But if I find out you're planning something behind my back, vampire or not, I _will_ charge you as a witch."

She downs the rest of her drink, setting it down and turning towards him. "Good thing I'm not, then."

Marcel keeps her gaze for a moment, his lip twitching. Finally, however, he breaks into one of his infectious grins. "Great, good to know. Enjoy the party," With a little pat on her shoulder that sends an uneasy chill up her spine, he leaves.

Arabella leans off the bar and walks back into the crowd, looking for someone to distract her. After grabbing a champagne from one of the waiters, she stands off the side and inspects the gala. Rebekah joins her after a moment, holding her own glass.

"I used to love these things," She pouts. "And now, all I can think about is what that little witch might be doing to my brother as we speak. This is more Elijah's scene, anyways."

"I hate parties," Arabella grumbles. Rebekah raises a brow.

"I thought you grew up with the Salvatores'? Didn't they always throw all kinds of parties?"

"Yeah, I grew up with the Salvatores' ... as their _servant_ ," She downs her champagne in one go, earning an almost offended look from Rebekah at the action.

"Easy! Show a little class, would you? I know that's not really a _Salvatore_ thing, but--" Her attention is cut off as she spots one the acrobats, going on about how her family used to throw better parties. Arabella, however, spots something else.

Klaus stands by one of the bar tables, laughing and talking with another person. Another _woman_ , to be exact. She wears a white gown that clings to her body, angel wings spreading out behind her. Her silky blonde hair is curled up, and she has a kind and beautiful face, one that stretches into a smile as she speaks with the hybrid. _Human_.

For a moment, Arabella stares at the two of them, quite aware of the jealousy gnawing at her heart. Why is she jealous? For all she knows, that woman could be a complete stranger, and Klaus just happens to be talking to her. Or, maybe he plans on making her dinner.

But the way he smiles as he speaks with her, the way the human blonde's body leans towards him... it doesn't take a genius to understand what's going on there.

"Who's that?" Arabella cuts off Rebekah's complaints. The blonde Original turns to follow her gaze, raising a brow as she sees who she's referring to.

"Some human bartender from Rousseau's that Marcel is infatuated with-- Camille," Rebekah rolls her eyes. Arabella swallows.

"Just Marcel?"

"You're not jealous, are you?" Arabella glares at her, quickly denying it. "Fine, whatever you say. If Klaus has any sense, he won't go near her. He wants to be king far more than he wants a girlfriend."

"Right," Arabella mumbles, switching out her empty glass for a full one as the waiter passes by again. Rebekah notices the way she suddenly watches the two of them like a hawk, with uneasy eyes.

"You know," She begins, swirling her bubbly drink around. "I'm feeling a bit peckish-- you haven't had anything to eat, have you? Perhaps we should make her dinner?"

" _Rebekah_ ," Arabella scolds half heartedly, turning away from Klaus and Camille. "She seems nice."

"Hmph."

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"Don't move or speak. This will only hurt a little."

The human-- a young woman who had come out for a smoke-- freezes in her spot. She doesn't make a sound as two fangs, glimmering in the moonlight, sink into the soft flesh of her neck.

It's been awhile since Arabella has fed straight from the vein. When with Marcel and Klaus, she generally allows the blood to pour into a cup-- cleaner that way. However, tonight, she's stressed, and hungry. Coming out of The Abattoir to get some air and finding this woman doing the same works out nicely.

As she drinks the blood at a steady pace, making sure to listen for a heartbeat, Arabella's phone goes off. She holds the woman back and pulls it out, sighing as _Idiot_ flashes on the screen.

"I'm in the middle of dinner. Can this wait?"

" _Uh... it's kinda important,_ " Damon's voice seems uneasy on the other line. Arabella holds back a sigh and bites her wrist, quickly feeding the woman her blood before looking her squarely in the eyes.

"Forget my face. You came outside for a smoke, and now you're gonna go back in," She nods mutely, turning and following Arabella's orders.

" _No_ way _! You're feeding? From the_ vein _?"_

"Shut up."

" _Can't believe I missed that,_ " Damon laughs, but it quickly dies down as he remembers what he needed to tell her. " _So, we have a bit of a problem. You haven't talked to Stefan by any chance, have you?_ "

"No, I thought I'd give it a year before I talk to him again," Arabella leans against the wall and wipes the blood from the corner of her mouth. "Why?"

"Well... turns out he happens to be a doppelganger. How funny is that?" He laughs wearily.

"Wait, _what_?"

Damon quickly explains the situation to Arabella. Silas is Stefan's doppelganger, and managed to lock Stefan in a box and drop him at the bottom of the quarry. Meaning their brother has been repeatedly drowning for over two months, with no end in sight. However, they managed to locate the box and pull it out, only to find that Stefan is gone, and now, Damon needs help finding him.

"Why would you not tell me this?!" Arabella shouts into the phone angrily.

" _Are you trying to make me go deaf?_ "

"God, Damon, what the hell?" She pinches the bridge of her nose. "You should've called me the second you knew Silas took his place!"

" _I thought I could handle it_ ," Damon sighs on the other end. " _But clearly--_ "

"Clearly, you're a brainless idiot, is what you are. Stefan could already be--" She hits the back of her head against the wall a few times, groaning. She doesn't want to face that reality yet. "I'll be in Mystic Falls soon. _Keep me updated_."

" _Yeah, yeah_ ," Damon grumbles, before hanging up the phone. Arabella lets out a frustrated huff of breath, looking up at the starry night sky, and praying to whatever force may be out there that her brother is still alive.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

It feels like she's always packing.

Whether it be to leave, or stay, or make a temporary trip, Arabella is getting tired of hauling her belongings into duffel bags continuously.

After Damon's phone call, she went straight back to the Mikaelson house. Carefully put the dress back in Rebekah's room, and began getting ready to embark on a trip back home.

However, as she stuffs random clothing into a bag, her thoughts are centered elsewhere. On Stefan, to be exact. He could be anywhere. _With_ anyone. What's to say Silas hasn't already killed him?

"Arabe-- what are you doing?" She ignores Klaus' voice, continuing to pack her things. The hybrid watches her with knitted brows, confused as to why she's packing. Well, he thinks he _might_ know why she's packing, but he hopes it's not that. "Arabella."

"I need to get back to Mystic Falls," She mutters under her breath, frowning as she contemplates whether or not to bring along a bag filled with an herb mixture.

Klaus sighs, looking down and laying a hand on the doorframe. "If this is about Marcel--"

"Not everything is about you, Klaus," Arabella snaps, walking over to the bookshelf and snatching her grimoire with a few books. He frowns at her words.

"Then why?"

"Don't worry about it," He purses his lips at her words, taking in the younger vampire's appearance. She's stressed, clearly, and each time she stuffs something into the bag, her hands shake. Arabella seems to be holding back a multitude of emotions as she rushes to pack her things.

"Arabella," Klaus walks up to her, tilting his head slightly to try and catch her eyes. "Talk to me."

"Stop, I just need to pack my things and--"

"Arabella," He grabs her hand, only to get harshly swatted away.

"I said _stop_!" She says sharply, her eyes wide and angry. Klaus doesn't fail to catch the glassiness in them. "Okay? Just _stop_. Because my brother could be dead, I don't have time to deal with _you_ ," She turns back to her bag with a scowl. "I'll come back, despite my better judgement, once I know my family is okay."

"Why dead? What happened?" She throws her head back with a heavy sigh at his nonstop questions.

"Silas is Stefan's doppelganger," Arabella doesn't bother to allow Klaus to process her words as she continues to speak, but needless to say, he's shocked. "And when Stefan went to drop his body in quarry, Silas switched places with him and dropped Stefan in instead. Meaning while I've been here, running around on some stupid revenge scheme with you, my brother has been repeatedly drowning for months. And now, he's disappeared. Which means he could be anywhere, on another Ripper binge, or- or _dead_ \--"

Arabella doesn't realize there are tears streaming down her cheeks until she feels Klaus' warm hand cupping her face, wiping them away. She blinks a few times in shock and flinches at his sudden touch, looking up at him. The Original looks back at her with worry and pity, his thumb stroking her cheek even after it's free of tears.

"I- I'm fine," She pushes his hands away, not harshly, and turns back to her bags. "I just need to get to Damon and find him."

"What can I do to help?"

"Seriously?" Arabella raises a brow at Klaus. "Don't you have enough going on here?" He sighs lightly, shaking his head.

"If you need my help, I can put it on hold for the time being," He sounds genuine enough, yet Arabella isn't so sure she wants to take up his offer. After all, she's still angry at him, and besides. How could an Original help find Stefan?

"I'll be fine," She shakes her head, zipping up her bag and slinging the strap over her shoulder. Without another word to Klaus, Arabella leaves to Mystic Falls. 

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•


	6. Chapter 4

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"Damon?" Arabella has been driving for a few hours now, nearing the quant and annoying little town of Mystic Falls as she goes. However, time doesn't seem to pass anymore, with only one, haunting thought hitting her mind.

She's been doing the math. Of the chances that Stefan is dead. And so far? The numbers are not exactly on her side. Damon calling fortunately interrupted that process.

" _We found him,_ " His words cause a relieved sigh to escape Arabella's lips. " _He's fine, got kidnapped by some two thousand year old vengeful bitch. But he's alive, and home._ "

"Great," Arabella sighs, exiting the freeway now that she knows they're home. "I'm almost there, maybe another twenty minutes or so."

" _Yeah... um... we also have a teeny,_ tiny _problem,_ " Damon adds in a small voice. " _But that can wait until you get here._ "

"Wait, what prob--" Before she can finish, Damon has already hung up the phone. Letting out a frustrated breath, Arabella presses down on the accelerator and continues on her way.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Damon hears the engine of Arabella's Jaguar before she even has a chance to park it, speeding from Elena's side to the driveway in an instance. He watches closely in the darkness as his sister hastily steps out of the car and rushes up the steps.

"Long time no see, little sister," He greets, having to quickly rush to keep up with her as she brushes past him and into the house.

"Where is he?" Arabella asks, tucking her keys into her coat pocket. Damon clears his throat, nodding to the living room and following her.

"Just-- uh, before you go, there's probably something you need to--" Damon sighs heavily as Arabella ignores him and rushes in, her tense shoulders seeming to loosen at the sight of Stefan, perfectly fine. Elena sits off to the side on a couch, seeming more stressed that usual. "Bella, wait--"

"Stef," The youngest Salvatore doesn't give Stefan a chance to respond, simply walking up to where he stands in front of the fireplace and throwing her arms around him. "Thank God, I thought you were _dead_."

It takes a moment, but Arabella soon realizes that Stefan is just standing there, his arms hanging limply to the side. She frowns and pulls back, raising a brow while laughing awkwardly.

"Stefan?" Forest eyes stare back at her in wonder and confusion.

"Do I... know you?" He asks tentatively, slowly taking a step back. Arabella laughs nervously, but it dies down when he shows no indication of humor.

"Yeah..." Damon pipes awkwardly from the entrance of the room. His sister slowly turns around, a deadly look in her eyes. " _That's_ the teeny, tiny problem I was talking about."

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"This is not teeny, _or_ tiny!" Arabella smacks her brother in the shoulder, earning a smack on the arm back. It's not long before both siblings are returning slaps to the hands while backing their faces away. "Stop it!"

" _You_ stop it," Damon jumps back, glaring.

He had quickly summed up the whole issue circling Qetsiyah, a two thousand year old witch, and Silas and Amara, the original doppelgangers. All ending with Qetsiyah kidnapping Stefan, and wiping his mind clear of memories. Not that Arabella quite cared about any of it. What she _did_ care about was her brother's inability to remember his own family and friends.

"What have you told him?" She crosses her arms over her chest, glancing back into the living room from the hallway they both stand in. Elena had went to check on Jeremy earlier, leaving the sibling pair to deal with this particular problem.

"Nothing," Damon shrugs, frowning. "I was counting on you to work your witchy woo and fix this."

"Qetsiyah is two thousand years old," Arabella tells him with a dull look. "What makes you think _I_ can break her spells?"

"I would say hope, but honestly, you're a last option kinda thing. Bonnie isn't picking up the phone," Damon dodges another one of her incoming slaps. "Just go fix him, would you?"

"This conversation is not over," Arabella points a finger at him, but turns on her heel and walks back into the living room nonetheless.

Stefan now sits on the couch, staring down at a glass of water distastefully. As his siblings walk back in, he seems more on alert, sitting straighter and quickly setting the cup down.

"Hey, Stef," Arabella waves half heartedly, slowly taking a seat beside him. "Do you remember... _anything_? Anything at all?"

"I remember that this is water," Stefan points to the cup. "I know the names of things. I know what year it is. But I don't remember who I am, or..." He trails off, staring between the two in bewilderment. "Are we, like, friends?"

"Not exactly," Arabella shakes her head, patting her chest. "I'm your younger sister, Arabella."

"S-sister?" Stefan's confusion only increases. Slowly, as if to be subtle, he looks down at his own hand, inspecting the skin color, before looking back at Arabella's hand.

" _Half_ sister," She quickly cuts in, ignoring the snickers from Damon. "We only share a dad."

"Oh."

"And I am your super cool older brother, Damon," He plops down on the couch across from them. Stefan inspects his black hair and blue eyes in confusion.

"Somehow, that's harder to believe than this girl being my sister."

"Tell me about it," Arabella mutters. "Lemme just..." She doesn't give much of a warning to Stefan, taking two fingers and pressing them against his forehead.

Damon watches in wonder as Arabella's eyes stare straight ahead, glowing their luminescent violet, as Stefan's roll back in his head. After a moment of searching, however, the youngest pulls her hand away, blinking a few times until her normal eye color returns.

"Well?" Damon presses, frowning.

"Nothing," Arabella shakes her head as Stefan jumps up and backs away. "I- I can't find anything. I'm not sure how she did it. It's like his mind was never tampered with in the first place."

"Two thousand year old witch has some game," Damon shrugs, standing up. "C'mon. We're going for a ride."

Arabella is reluctant, but still follows her brothers as Damon walks off the Salvatore property and compels a car off some stranger. She's not sure _what_ her brother is trying to do, but perhaps a car ride can help.

The drive is spent with Damon steering around the outskirts of Mystic Falls, Stefan reading through his old journals while Arabella tries to find some spell in her grimoires that explains this whole mess.

Every now and then, she'll sneak a glance at Stefan, and as much as she hates to admit it, seeing him like this is almost... _relieving_. A Stefan not weighed by his own guilt and regret, not spending each waking moment of every day trying to make up for his past crimes. One that has the capability to be truly happy, without having to feel guilt about it. Was wiping his memory really a punishment?

"March 12, 1922. I blacked out for days. I woke up in a stranger's blood in places I don't recognize with women I don't remember," Stefan reads aloud from his journal. Arabella cringes at the year, not looking up. She sits cross legged in the middle of the seats, trying to tune out for this portion of Stefan's life.

"I feel alive again," Damon finishes dramatically, nodding along to the music blasting from the radio.

"Alright, I think I've had enough," Stefan snorts, tossing the journal to the side. "I am a vampire who has done some crappy things. Who apparently lives off of blood," He recounts, grimacing.

"Speaking of," Arabella leans down and opens the cooler in Damon's backseat, pulling out a blood bag and tossing it to Stefan. "Eat up."

"And this is supposed to fill me up?" He inquires, taking a hungry sip of the blood. Damon shrugs.

"Yes, and no. Technically yeah, because you're a vampire..."

"But really no, because you're, well... _you_ ," Arabella finishes, shutting her grandmother's grimoire closed.

"Ahh, yes," Stefan sucks the rest of the blood out. "The insatiable blood lusting vampire. Ripper of Monterey," He scoffs, opening his window to toss the empty bag out. Damon quickly snatches it before he can, tossing it in the backseat and ignoring the annoyed look Arabella sends his way as it hits her face.

"You're a vampire, not a caveman."

"So, let me get this straight," Stefan says dully, rolling up the window. "I helped you guys steal this car, I found out I'm a vampire who killed his own father _and_ brother-in-law, and yet I don't litter?"

"It's called decency, Stef. Qetsiyah didn't erase _that_ ," Arabella points out, grabbing her own grimoire and beginning to flip through it. "Do you know how bad plastic is for the environment? If you have to spend eternity on this planet, _at least_ take care of it."

"Ohh, I get it," He points a finger at Arabella. "Smartass sister," He points at Damon. "Safe brother, and fun brother," Stefan smiles proudly, patting his own chest. Both his siblings laugh at that.

"Right," Arabella mutters, her eyes slightly widening as Damon presses down on the gas pedal, the car speed upping to triple digits.

"Do you trust me?" Damon smirks at Stefan.

"Do I have a choice?"

"I don't. I don't trust you," Arabella quickly says, leaning forward. She already knows what's about to happen. "Damon, I swear to Go--"

Damon doesn't give his sister a chance to finish, suddenly pulling on the emergency break. The vehicle skids across the road, before flipping over multiple times. It crashes against the rough streets, totaling into burning pieces across the road.

As for its passengers, all three vampires lay in the rubble, surrounded by the remnants of the vehicle.

Stefan groans as he sits up, chuckling breathlessly. "Oh, I get it. _You're_ the fun brother," Damon props himself up on his elbows, letting out a breath and nodding.

"I hate you both," Arabella groans, unwinding herself from the fetal position she had curled into to protect her grimoires.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"Caroline!" Arabella throws the door open to the large dorm room at Whitmore College, brows shooting up at the sight she's met with. Tyler and Caroline are both on her bed, engaged in a makeout session, which was rudely interrupted.

"Oh!" Caroline yelps, speeding up and straightening her clothes. Tyler just lets out a huffed breath and falls back on the bed.

It's been a few days since Arabella has gotten to town. In those few days, she has tried to stay out of all this doppelganger business as best as she could, just sticking around until Stefan gets his memory restored. And yet, these few days have been far too hectic for her taste.

Damon somehow managed to piss off Stefan, even without his memories, so he's been somewhat MIA lately. Not to mention, news got out of Bonnie's death, which left a tragic aura in the air as of late. Arabella was saddened by the news; though her and Bonnie may have not been on the best of terms by her death, she was still young, and a good witch. She didn't deserve to die. The youngest Salvatore had attended her funeral out of respect, making sure to stay further away from everyone for most of it.

Now, however, she needs to check in on Stefan. Klaus has been blowing up her phone, and she's been ignoring him. Arabella texted him _once_ when she first got to Mystic Falls, just to let him know Stefan is alive and she's fine. Other than that, she's been ignoring his messages, which the vampire knows will aggravate him, but she could care less. He pissed her off first.

"Arabella!" Caroline smiles sheepishly, smoothening down her silky hair. "What's up?"

"Sorry about interrupting... _that_ ," Arabella snorts, motioning to the bed with a wide hand motion. "But I was wondering if you've heard from Stefan? Elena mentioned he might be with you."

"Oh, right," Caroline nods quickly. "He's been around, but he's okay. I've been helping him study his old life."

"That's good, thanks for being there for hi--" Arabella stops talking, catching Tyler's eye distastefully. He leans against the headboard, giving her a hateful look. "Why's your boyfriend giving me a death stare?"

"Wha-- Tyler!" Caroline scolds, turning around and crossing her arms. Tyler ignores her, standing up and marching up to them.

"I'm surprised you'd even show your face around here," He spits, catching both girls off guard.

" _Excuse me_?" Arabella gapes at him. "The only reason you're even able to show _your_ face here right now is thanks to me, so maybe watch your tone?"

"Exactly," He points a finger at her accusingly. "Because now, you're Klaus' little--"

"Finish that sentence and I will pull out your wolf claws one by one and string them up as a Halloween decoration," She warns in a hushed tone. Caroline quickly intervenes.

"Okay! That's enough fighting between you two, _God_ ," She huffs, putting a hand on both their shoulders. "Can't we just have a week of peace? Especially _this_ week?" She adds sadly. 

"I'll have a lifetime of peace once I get to get revenge on Klaus myself," At his words, Caroline lets out a frustrated sigh and turns to go get a blood bag from her car, muttering something along the lines of, _Here we go again_. Arabella can just blink at him, realizing what he wants to do.

"Please tell me you're not trying to _find_ Klaus?" Her words are met with silence. "Tyler, use those doggy ears of yours and listen closely, cause I'm only gonna say this once. If Klaus even catches a _whiff_ of you in a twenty mile radius of him, he'll kill you before midterms, do you understand me?"

"Maybe I'm not after Klaus," Tyler shrugs, a devilish glint in his eyes. "Maybe, I'm after Hayley," Arabella feels her mouth go dry. "Yeah, I know all about the little secret miracle baby he's hiding there."

"You want to go after _Hayley_?" Arabella laughs humorlessly, unbelieving that one person can really be _this_ dumb. "If you try to touch a hair on Hayley's head, the _entire_ Mikaelson family will make you suffer in ways beyond your imagination, and guess what?" She takes a step near him, poking the hybrid roughly in the shoulder. "I'll help them."

Tyler stares down at her, flaming anger clear in his dark eyes. After a moment, he allows his lips to curl into a smirk, before brushing past her and out the door.

Arabella understands his anger, she truly does. Klaus killed his mother, and Hayley got his pack killed. However, at the same time, in that moment she realizes something.

Despite all the cruelties Klaus has caused upon Tyler, if it came down between them, she will always defend Klaus. And currently, Tyler is beginning to seem like a bit of a threat.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Mystic Falls has never been this _boring_. Sure, it has its pros and cons. But as Arabella sits in her greenhouse, twirling around a stem of rosemary, she can only see the cons. Somehow, being back in New Orleans seems much more appealing. Dealing with the problems there makes Silas and Qetsiyah seem... _small_. Ironic, considering how powerful they are, yet their motives are incredibly petty.

After paying Caroline a visit, Arabella had gone back home, skipping out on some college party everyone else was going to. If trouble brewed, Damon could always call. She's happy to be back at her greenhouse, which she had missed immensely while in NOLA. But without much magic needing to be done, it's not quite as appealing. 

_Nikki_ begins flashing on her screen just as she thinks about getting hammered tonight, causing her to frown. She's had a few missed calls from Klaus, but in this past hour, he's been calling incessantly. Curiosity gets the better of her and she grabs the phone, clicking the _answer_ button. 

"Hello?"

" _Well, look who finally decided to pick up_ ," Klaus huffs.

"Sorry, I don't pick up to liars and assholes."

" _Well, sweetheart, you really are just dragging that along, aren't you?_ " He grumbles on the other line. _"Look, I apologize for not telling you about my very_ distant _relations to Marcel. But now that you've gotten a very rare apology from me_ \--"

"Ah yes, a Niklaus Mikaelson apology. I'm sure all my problems will turn into fairy dust now," She cuts him off dryly. The hybrid lets out a loud sigh on the other line, clearly getting annoyed with her.

" _You just love to get on my nerves, don't you?_ "

"I really do, yeah," Despite still being mad at him, Arabella feels her lips involuntarily pull up into a smile. "Why are you blowing up my phone again?"

" _It's about Hayley_ ," Klaus' tone suddenly becomes much more serious. " _It seems the witches aren't as pure hearted as you thought. That troublesome one-- Agnes-- she tried to kill her the other night._ "

"What?" Arabella sets down the rosemary stem. "Is she okay?"

" _Hayley is fine. Apparently, my unborn child carries vampire blood in its system and healed her_ ," He sounds proud as he says that bit. His voice quickly turns grim again. " _Those treacherous Quarter Coven witches have some insane theory that my child will be the end of all witches, which personally, I don't see as a problem, but not everyone shares my views. Agnes tricked Hayley into coming into a clinic in the Bayou, then ambushed her._ "

"Okay, first of all, don't do anything to the witches yet. Lemme get there first," She quickly tells him. The witches may be a bit... _crazy_ at the moment, but Arabella has a feeling she may be able to talk some sense into them. She's done it before, she can do it again.

" _Is there any way we can speed up the process of your return?_ " Klaus asks impatiently. _"You have medical experience, plus safe access to magic. I need you to check on Hayley, make sure everything's alright with my child_ ," It's almost sweet, how concerned he is. It makes Arabella believe more and more that his intentions for the baby are pure.

She purses her lips, tapping her fingers against the table. She _did_ say she would stay until Stefan got his memory back, but as far as Arabella can tell, that could take weeks. Besides, she hasn't exactly been much help here in Mystic Falls...

"I'll be there by tonight," Arabella decides, standing up. "Just... don't do anything too crazy until I get there."

_"Noted. See you soon, love_."

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•


	7. Chapter 5

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

The sounds of scotch cleanly pouring into a crystal glass fill the quiet room as Rebekah makes herself a drink. The youngest Original brings the glass to her lips and takes a small sip, sighing in satisfaction.

Her attention is caught as the door is thrown open, the frown turning into a smile as Arabella steps through. The younger vampire seems tired after the long flight to Louisiana, her curls messily piled at the top of her head, and a mostly empty coffee cup in her hands. A long, black coat loosely sits atop her shoulders.

"Bella! Finally, Niklaus has been in a mood ever since you left," Rebekah remarks, walking forward. "Thought I was going to have to deal with him for another few days."

Arabella smiles, pulling off the coat and leaving herself in a grey hoodie and ripped jeans. "Glad to be back."

"Arabella," Both girls look up at the rich voice, the vampire-witch more than surprised to find Elijah standing in the hallway, clad in one of his signature suits. Rebekah leaves, saying something about needing to go wash up, bidding goodnight to her brother. "Niklaus said you were helping with the Marcellus situation, though he also said you left, and wasn't sure if you would be returning."

"Well, I returned, and so did you, by the looks of it," Arabella laughs awkwardly, motioning to him. Elijah doesn't share her humor. Instead, he stares at her with a hardset gaze, and if she didn't know any better, she would say he was _analyzing_ her. It's clear he's weary of the younger. "I should go find Klaus."

"Check his bedroom," Elijah suggests. Nodding, Arabella brushes past him and makes her way through the hall, shuddering as she does. 

Elijah intimidates her, to be honest. She had been on his good side, once upon a time, but somewhere along the way, she lost his trust. Perhaps it had something to do with sleeping with Klaus, but she can't be all too sure.

Arabella walks up the stairs and into Klaus' room, after her knock receives no answer. Truthfully, she hasn't been in here often. Only times she has, she stayed by the doorway, just asking Klaus questions, or talking about a game plan.

The bedroom, like his room back in Mystic Falls, is decorated elegantly, and lacking much personality. However, there are more paintings here, with brushes and rich colored pigments sitting atop every surface. Currently, he doesn't seem to be in the middle of a painting, however, Arabella notices the sketchbook sitting on his bed.

Curiosity gets the better of her and she sits on the edge of the expensive comforter, gently picking it up. She listens closely for Klaus, hearing the shower running in his bathroom, and decides to go for it.

The first few pages seem to be of an assortment of things. Landscapes, random desktop items, etc. For a few pages there are just wolves, and one page is a sketch of his family at the Mikaelson Ball. However, the pages after that cause a small gasp to escape Arabella's lips.

It's her. In between the pages, he draws something new, but for the most part, it's her. Smiling, laughing, stoic...he drew Arabella. It fills her heart with something she wishes she could push away, but a small smile still finds its way upon her face.

The sound of the shower squeaking closed almost causes her to jump, but Arabella quickly closes the sketchbook and carefully lays it back down, jumping up from the bed and speeding to the opposite end of the room.

"Who's there?" Klaus asks from behind the door, his movements freezing.

"Me," Arabella replies, fiddling with her fingers as she waits. Klaus says nothing, but after a few moments, emerges from the bathroom, dressed in cotton pants. He has a grey t-shirt in hand, and pulls it over his head. She clears her throat and looks away.

"You're back."

"I'm back," She nods, looking back up now that he's fully clothed. Klaus gives her a small smile, his hair laying in messy, wet curls.

"You seem tense."

"I'm not tense, I'm just... _uneasy_ about being under the same roof as so many Mikaelson's," Arabella crosses her arms over her chest protectively. 

' _Totally not because your just came out of the shower shirtless.'_

Klaus shrugs. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, Rebekah will probably be leaving soon."

Arabella hums in response. "Where's Hayley?"

"Right," Klaus nods for her to follow him, the two walking into the hall. He studies her for a moment, sighing. "You're still cross with me, I gather? Will there ever be a time you're _not_ mad at me, love?"

"Mm, probably not," She clicks her tongue, side eyeing him. "You haven't touched the witches, have you?"

"No, and I have every piece of mind to kill the lot of them," Klaus stops in his tracks, pointing a finger at her. "They're a cruel little bunch. Not sure why you're so keen to protect them."

"Look, I know they went after Hayley, but just give me a chance to talk to them--"

"It's not just about Hayley," He shakes his head, continuing down the hall. "Ever heard of the Harvest Ritual?" It's Arabella's turn to halt to a stop.

"How do _you_ know about the Harvest Ritual?" She questions. "It's basically a myth."

"Not so much," Klaus purses his lips together. "Davina Claire was one of four Harvest witches, all unknowing that they were to be sacrificed. Marcel stopped the ritual before it could be finished, granting her the power of all four of them."

"They did a Harvest Ritual?" A flame erupts in Arabella's eyes. "That ceremony is inhumane-- I knew they were desperate, but to murder four children..." Her voice trails off, following Klaus to Hayley's door. He taps his knuckle against it, raising a brow down at her.

"Still so quick to defend them, sweetheart?" She doesn't get a chance to reply. Hayley throws the door open, seeming annoyed as she sees Klaus. However, her eyes lighten at the sight of Arabella. She's already dressed for bed, in a grey patterned maternity tank with matching bottoms. In this shirt, her pregnant belly stands out clearly.

"Check-up time?" Hayley holds the door open. "I didn't think you'd get here till morning."

"Left early and caught a flight. My brothers can handle themselves," Arabella replies, walking in and Klaus following. Hayley's bedroom, like the rest of the Mikaelson home, is decorated with expensive and lavish materials, not much indication that a pregnant werewolf lives in it other than the clothing piles on the floor and the multiple empty cups on her nightstand.

"She needs a medical examination," Klaus explains, taking a seat in a spare arm chair as Hayley sits on the edge of her bed. "Hayley here thought it smart to go to a clinic in the Bayou--"

"I just wanted to make sure the baby was okay," Hayley defends her actions, frowning. Arabella nods.

"She was right to. You have to check in with a professional doctor regularly," The vampire-witch agrees. "Maybe not in a shady Bayou clinic, but there are plenty of great hospitals around the area. We can set an appointment for you with an OB/GYN--"

"Absolutely not," Klaus cuts her off firmly. "I'm not risking another attack."

"At a _hospital_? It's literally the safest place on Earth, Klaus."

"I said no. You're all the doctoring we need."

"Klaus, I was a _trauma surgeon_ , pregnancies weren't even my specialty," Arabella points out with a frown. "We can just pop her in for a check-up--"

"I have to agree with Klaus on this one," Hayley seems reluctant to side with the hybrid, but does anyway. She lays a hand atop her stomach. "I don't think it's such a good idea to go anywhere public, especially with Marcel's vampires everywhere, and the witches wanting my baby dead," Arabella looks between the two of them for a moment, before sighing and giving in.

"Alright. It's your kid," She walks over to Hayley, laying a hand on her shoulder. "Just lie down, and I'll start," The werewolf wearily lays on the mattress, her head propped up by a few pillows as she pulls her shirt up just enough to reveal her stomach. Klaus watches them closely with furrowed brows.

Arabella takes her hands and gently presses her fingers into Hayley's abdomen, feeling around the muscles as gently as she can.

"Any predictions on the gender?"

"I think it's a girl," Hayley replies, trying to hold back her giddy grin. Arabella smiles as well, glancing at Klaus, who has a smile of his own on his lips.

"Well, everything feels okay," She remarks, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and listening closely. "Healthy heartbeat... any pain?"

"I have some headaches sometimes, and morning sickness," Hayley shrugs, shifting on the bed.

"That's normal," Arabella nods. "I can make some home remedies to help with the morning sickness."

"See? You do just fine. We don't need a hospital," Klaus smiles smugly. Arabella rolls her eyes at him, straightening up. "You are going to use your magic, aren't you?"

"The witches have some crazy prophecy about the baby," Hayley adds, and despite her casual tone, there is evident worry in her eyes. Arabella nods, cracking her knuckles.

"I'm sure it's nothing, witches can be dramatic. They're probably just scared you're gonna have a mini Klaus."

"Fingers crossed," Klaus pipes, chuckling as both women give him dull looks. Arabella turns back to Hayley, gently placing both hands on her stomach and closing her eyes while chanting in French under her breath. A small smile pulls on her lips as she uses a bit of magic to tell the gender of the baby. A girl, just as Hayley thought.

However, the smile falters as she continues. An overpowering rush takes over the vampire-witch as the Talisman begins to overpower, the wordless whispers filling her ears and vision.

Hayley and Klaus watch with furrowed brows as Arabella's hands begin to shake slightly, her breathing becoming heavier and chants louder. The pregnant girl flinches as her eyes suddenly fly open, the eerie, glowing violet having taken over.

"Arabella?" Klaus stands up, sharing a worried look with Hayley. Suddenly, Arabella ceases her chanting all together, her eyes still glowing and hands still on Hayley's stomach as she stares straight ahead. Her breaths come out quickly, and her hands shake violently.

Finally, her eyes roll in the back of her head and she collapses. Klaus speeds over and catches Arabella before she can hit the ground, quickly smoothening the hair out of her face and staring down at her in worry.

"Is she okay?" Hayley sits up, wrapping an arm around her stomach. Arabella looks up through groggy eyes at the two.

"Congrats," She whispers weakly. "It's a girl," Those are her last words before she passes out in Klaus' arms.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Klaus rarely ever feels worried. Don't be fooled, he _does_ get worried, and getting worried generally leads him to do violent and irrational things. But he doesn't _allow_ himself to get worried. At least not to this point.

But right now, Klaus is worried. He is _very_ worried. For a number of reasons. Firstly, to tackle the current problem, Arabella lays on her bed where Klaus had brought her, passed out from her earlier spell. He has no idea when she'll wake, or if she's in pain, pain that was caused by _his_ requests. He's afraid to even touch her, as if she may go back into that chanting, shaking state. 

Secondly, just from context clues, the hybrid can go ahead and guess that his child won't grow up to be some sweet, innocent little girl. Which he's fine with, to be honest. But that means more enemies, and more enemies means danger, and despite never even feeling this baby kick, Klaus would do just about anything to protect his unborn daughter. 

His negative thoughts drift away when Arabella begins to shift slightly. He gets up from the chair he had been sitting on and sits by her bed, hesitantly, but gently, stroking the hair out of her face as her pale emeralds blink up at him. His other hand slips into her own, squeezing it comfortingly.

"What happened?"

"I was about to ask you the same," He replies softly, moving his hands away as she sits up. "You took a bit of a fall there. Caught you before you passed out."

"Right," She mumbles under her breath, remembering the events from earlier that night. It's a bit past midnight at this point. She's been gone for a bit.

"How do you feel? Are you okay?"

"I've got a headache, but I'm fine," She smiles, but it slowly fades away as she begins to remember what the magic had shown her. 

"Arabella, what did you see?" Klaus tilts his head with a frown. Arabella looks up with wide eyes, fully remembering her visions.

"Where's Hayley?"

"Right here," Hayley stifles a yawn as she walks into the room, holding a glass of water and setting it by Arabella. "Sorry. I got hungry."

"You said we were having a girl and then just..." Klaus trails off, motioning to the floor. Hayley sits on the chair Klaus abandoned, ready to hear what the vampire-witch has to say.

"Well, first off, I think the witches were a bit dramatic to say your baby will bring the end of times," Arabella begins, pushing her curls back with both hands. "But... I can see how they reached that conclusion. What I saw... what I _felt_... it was overwhelming. I think... I think you're baby is going to be hybrid of three species-- a tribrid."

"A _what_?" Hayley leans forward in her seat, a hand immediately going to her stomach. Klaus says nothing, simply waiting for Arabella to continue.

"Part werewolf," She explains, before turning her eyes to Klaus. "Part witch, and part vampire."

"How would she be born a vampire?" Klaus frowns. "We know she has vampire blood in her system, but a vampire is dead--"

"Two lives. She'll have two lives. When she dies, I think she's going to transition," Arabella expands her logic, looking down at her hands as she thinks. Under her breath, she adds, "It should be impossible... nature should never allow it."

"So what was with the whole magic show earlier?" Hayley makes a wide hand motion.

"The Talisman was warning me... I don't know of what, but it was a warning," Arabella shakes her head, trying to rack her mind for what the amulet could _possibly_ be warning her of. "Partially of the baby. To be weary of her. But also... of something that will come after... something dark, and evil."

"Well, I'm as evil as it gets, love, so I think we can handle it," Klaus muses jokingly, yet he does feel his worry increase at her words. Arabella looks up at the two of them, shaking her head.

"I don't think your baby will bring the end of times," She tells them honestly. "But I think she'll attract something else that will."

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•


	8. Chapter 6

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Being under the same roof as the Mikaelson siblings was only ever destined to be chaotic. And though having to live with all of them made her uneasy, Arabella can handle chaotic. She handles chaos everyday, living with Damon and Stefan. The Boarding House is always filled with arguments, and death, to be frank.

However, Mikaelson's truly are something else.

As Arabella makes her way into the kitchen for some breakfast blood bags, still in the sweatpants and tank top she slept in with her hair in a tousled bun, she doesn't expect to see what she sees. Elijah and Klaus peacefully sit across from each other, each of them reading calmly, classical music drifting pleasantly through the air. It would seem civilized enough if not for the young blonde lying lifeless on the coffee table, blood dripping steadily from a bite in her neck.

"What the hell..." Arabella slows to a stop, staring between the two Originals. Neither Klaus nor Elijah look up, as if this is a normal, daily occurrence. Which, Arabella begins to realize, it probably is. "Had breakfast without me?"

"Goodmorning, love," Klaus looks over his shoulder and smiles up at the vampire-witch, before turning back to the body. "This was an honorary meal for Elijah, as an apology for handing him to Marcel, but..."

"Forgiveness cannot be bought, Niklaus," Elijah says without looking up. Arabella snorts at his answer and leans against Klaus' armchair, studying his book in hand.

" _A Poison Tree_ ," She reads the title, grimacing. "I hate poems. They're like riddles-- just get to your point."

"And here I thought you enjoyed showing off your intelligence?" He looks back up, his face coming a bit too close to hers for comfort. Arabella straightens up.

"I do-- poems are specified for a specific audience. There's nothing intellectual about them," Klaus lets out a breathy laugh.

"Well, that's one way to look at it. I think there's a deeper meaning behind each word."

"Ever thought of becoming an English professor?" Arabella teases with a small grin. Klaus rolls his eyes at her words, and before she can tease some more, Hayley strides into the room in her pajamas, holding a hand over her belly.

Arabella joins the werewolf on the walk to the kitchen, greeting her and asking how she slept. As the two women walk away, Elijah and Klaus' eyes follow, both brothers quickly snapping out of their trance and turning back to their books.

"And I just feel weird, sleeping in any position. I feel like I'm gonna crush the baby," Hayley says to Arabella as the older prepares herself some coffee, deciding to opt out of bourbon this time.

"You won't, don't worry," Arabella assures with a light laugh. "Your body will naturally protect the child. Plus, I doubt it's that easy to hurt a tribrid baby."

"I hope so," Hayley seems unconvinced. Her face contorts to annoyance as she looks through the fridge. Loudly, she says, "Listen, I know I'm the only one in this house who actually drinks milk, but would it kill any of you to add it to the grocery list?" Instead, she pulls out a tub of ice cream, ignoring the disapproving look Arabella sends her way.

"Speaking of, add bleach," Rebekah bursts through the backdoor and walks through the kitchen, waving around a pair of gloves.

Arabella snorts at both of them, but her humor dies down when she notices Elijah standing at the kitchen entryway, staring her down. Clearing her throat, the younger vampire picks up her mug and goes to leave, paying the eldest Original a curt nod.

"Morning, Elijah," He doesn't reply, simply keeping the burning gaze.

She's not quite sure _what_ his problem is. Elijah, the ever so noble Original, seems to dislike Arabella, for whatever reason. And she can't seem to pinpoint _why_.

Instead of overthinking the subject, Arabella decides to just get ready for the day instead. Ever since Elijah stepped foot into the house, he seems to radiate the energy of someone who is in charge. Meaning, the little plan to take Marcel down would probably have to get temporarily postponed, at least until Klaus could reason with his brother.

As she has that last thought, Arabella realizes the plan is probably going to be postponed for a while. Mikaelson's aren't exactly the most reasonable of creatures.

She quickly changes into a pair of faded, baggy jeans, short beige boots and a tucked in black tank, securing her curls into a ponytail with a scrunchy. After grabbing a cloth bag, the vampire-witch settles in the outdoor part of the Plantation, deciding to do some gardening.

If there is one thing Arabella misses about Mystic Falls, it's her greenhouse. The fresh air, hanging heavy with smells of the Earth, the large glass dome allowing pools of sunlight in, the way all her mixtures were just a step away... it makes her homesick just thinking about it. Though the Mikaelson Mansion doesn't exactly have a greenhouse, it _does_ have a garden, which she has used to her advantage. So now, with a pair of sunglasses shielding her eyes, Arabella yanks out weeds from the fields, stuffing them into her bag.

It's easy enough work, and allows her to think. Well, it _would_ , if she didn't feel a burning gaze on her back not more than five minutes after starting.

"I know you're there, Elijah," Arabella straightens up, pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head and creating a headband of sorts. The Original walks to her, from where he had been standing in the dark shade of an apple tree.

"Gardening?" His eyes are set on the bag of weeds. Arabella shrugs.

"I guess. Some spells require a piece of nature, so I use weeds that I pluck from the plants. It's like killing two birds with one stone," She explains, getting only a head nod in return. Sighing, the younger vampire throws the bag on the ground, slightly surprising Elijah. "What is your problem?"

"Pardon?"

" _What_ is your _problem?_ " Arabella repeats slowly, glaring at him. Elijah's expression remains calm, his hands tucked into the pockets of his expensive trousers. She continues, not giving him a chance to reply just yet. "Ever since I have stepped foot back into this house, you've been giving me some sort of death stare. If you have a problem with me, Elijah, that's fine, but at least say something about it instead of just..." She trails off, motioning wildly at him with her hands.

Elijah walks forward, saying nothing, all while keeping that incessant, _irritating_ gaze. She hates it, she truly does. Arabella never realized how much she appreciates Klaus and Rebekah's upfrontness. If they have a problem with someone, they give no care if the individual is made known about it. Elijah, however, seems to enjoy keeping his true feelings to himself. Ironically, she finds herself despising the latter more.

"I do have a problem," Elijah admits casually, catching Arabella off guard. She hadn't expected him to actually _admit_ to it. "I spoke with my sister. She told me about your offer for Hayley to get rid of the child."

"So much for _'girl's sticking together_ '," Arabella mumbles, mocking Rebekah's accent.

"You needn't worry, she made me give her my word that Niklaus would not be made aware about your little proposition," Elijah waves her worries away, taking another step forward. He's now close enough that Arabella could easily hear his voice as it set to a dangerous low. "But he is not the one you should be worried about. Arabella, despite my brother's odd and rare trust in you, I am, and will remain, cautious."

"I was doing Hayley a favor," Arabella defends her prior actions, standing her ground. "No woman should ever be forced into motherhood. I thought you cared about her?" Her words cause a falter in Elijah's eyes, but he quickly composes himself.

"I know you are here solely for Marcellus," Elijah looks up at the sky, studying two birds soaring through it. "But listen closely, Arabella," His gaze snaps back down. "If I suspect for a _second_ that you are a threat to Hayley or the child, I will get rid of you myself."

"Are you threatening to _kill_ me?"

"Stay in line, and it will not come to that," He shrugs. "I protect my family, always and forever. And this child is my family."

She just scoffs at his words, shaking her head. "Can I ask where this mistrust is from? If anything, I think I've helped your family a pretty good amount, considering all the crap you brought to my home."

"I once thought you could make a good ally," Elijah admits, narrowing his dark eyes in the slightest. "But since the time that you and I met, you have allowed Niklaus to have an influence on you."

"That's bullshi--"

"Tell me, Arabella," He cuts her off swiftly. "How many times must my brother lie to you before you finally stop running back? And how many of your morals will you break for him?"

Elijah doesn't wait for a response, leaving back into the mansion. Arabella stands in the same spot, staring straight ahead and processing his words. They're not true. Elijah just came back from being daggered, and thinks he understands how everything here works. He's wrong.

Right?

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"Yes, go ahead, make me the bloody babysitter of the pregnant werewolf and the Klaus spawn. Not like I have anything better to do," Rebekah begrudgingly mutters under her breath as she scrubs her hands free of dirt. She has just finished burying the body Klaus had carelessly left on the coffee table, and now has orders from Elijah that she has to reluctantly follow.

"Where is everyone?" The Original's attention is snapped away from her cleaning as Arabella walks in with a bag of weeds in one hand and a bag of apples in another. She grimaces at the bleach filled air in the kitchen.

"My brothers went to go find Davina and get her to unlink Sophie from Hayley," Rebekah explains, turning off the sink and reaching for a towel. "You and I are on a nanny duty."

"What the hell?" Arabella throws her hands up, brows scrunching together angrily. "Who decided that?"

"Elijah is to thank."

"Of course," The younger vampire rolls her eyes. "So we're just expected to sit around all day and watch Hayley?"

"As far as I'm concerned," Rebekah shrugs, flipping silky locks off her shoulders. "Those apples?"

"Yeah, I figured if I didn't pick them, they would go bad," Arabella tosses the bag on the table. Rebekah grabs them and nods towards the doorway.

"I'll go make sure Nik's baby mama is fed," With that, the blonde struts out the room.

"Make sure to wash... them," Arabella calls after Rebekah, her voice fading off as the Original leaves. With a snort, the brunette grabs her weeds and speeds up to her own room to wash up. After a quick shower, she changes into a teal mock neck tank tucked into black jeans and short boots, leaving her hair in their natural curls.

As she finishes getting ready, Arabella plops down cross legged on the wooden flooring and begins to get her weeds ready. Of course, they need to be dried out, and in order to do so, she needs to hang them up. Tying each with string, and when she's done, they will be hung up in her closet, which remains unused thanks to the roomy dressers. There are already some herbs and flowers drying out in there. NOLA has a wide selection of witch shops to get supplies from, but Marcel has vampires everywhere. Vampires who get suspicious if they see a fellow 'vamp' fraternizing with the witches.

"Arabella, come here!" Hearing Rebekah's worried voice, Arabella abandons her weeds and speeds into Hayley's room, where both girls are.

The werewolf lays on the bed, her forehead slicked with sweat and a hand laid over her stomach. Hayley's eyes are closed shut in discomfort, Rebekah holding a bowl with water and a soaked rag.

"What happened?" Arabella quickly walks forward, sitting on the edge of Hayley's bed and inspecting her.

"I thought it was morning sickness," Hayley explains, opening her eyes and shifting up so she leans against the headboard.

"I'm sure my niece is healing her up as we speak," Rebekah adds in as she blots the cloth against Hayley's forehead. Despite her confident words, her tone implies otherwise.

"Definitely not morning sickness," Arabella points out the obvious, laying a hand on Hayley's forehead. She quickly pulls away; Hayley is burning up. Her first thought is that the younger girl has come down with a flu of sorts, which wouldn't be all too alarming. Rebekah is right, the baby's blood _should_ be healing her, which brings up the question as to why it is _not?_

"We think it's Sophie related," Hayley adds, wincing as she begins to feel slightly woozy. "I felt this prick in my neck--"

"What do you mean by prick?"

"Like I got stabbed with a needle or something, and I started bleeding," Hayley explains. She wasn't all too concerned about the former prick, however, when Arabella's eyes widen, her own heart rate picks up. "What? What is it?"

"I could be wrong, but I think I know what caused this," Arabella mumbles as she hastily stands up. Rebekah huffs as the younger vampire turns to walk out.

"Well, are you going to share with the rest of us?"

"Look, I don't want to worry you," Arabella sighs, holding her hands up and looking between the two of them. "But... I think someone stabbed Sophie with The Needle of Sorrows."

Rebekah glances at Hayley, who seems just as lost, and directs a rather dull look Arabella's way. "Explain it to those of us who aren't magic nerds?"

"It's a dark object," The Salvatore holds back an eyeroll. "It's purpose is to raise the blood temperature of a pregnant woman to...you know... "

"To cause a miscarriage," Hayley finishes with a shaky breath, sitting straighter. "What do we do? How do we stop it?"

Rebekah opens her mouth to reply, but quickly frowns as she sees Arabella turn on her heel and rush towards the door. "Where are you going?"

"To find Agnes."

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"How'd you find me?"

Arabella steps out of the shadows of the shop, watching Agnes with a dark gaze. The Elder had gone into hiding in one of the magic shops owned by a French Quarter Coven witch, sitting in the back rooms amongst candles and burning essence. The table in front of her has a bowl with a half mixed potion inside.

"Only witch in the Quarter who can freely do magic, remember?" Arabella taps her Talisman with one hand, the other slipped into her grey trench coat pocket. "Locator spell."

"Didn't think you'd come after me, to be honest," Agnes muses, crumbling up some dried flowers into the bowl.

"After everything you did?" Arabella glares at her. "You're lucky I didn't bring Klaus."

"Using the hybrid has a threat!" The witch barks a harsh laugh. "That's low."

"As low as coming after a pregnant woman? _Twice_?" Arabella says through gritted teeth, stalking towards her. "Or as low as sacrificing four oblivious teenagers in some power hungry ritual? And then _lying_ about it to cover your own ass?"

"The Harvest Ritual wouldn't be _needed_ if Marcel kept his damn vamps in line," Agnes grumbles, shaking her head. "But it was necessary."

"You're insane," Arabella laughs humorlessly, looking up at the ceiling in disbelief. "You were psychotic in the 70's, and you still are," She storms up the table, pointing an accusing finger at Agnes. "You know, I despise Marcel Gerard with every bone in my body, but one thing I've always respected about him? His rules against hurting children-- _any_ child, no matter their species. How does it make me look when I defend you witches, and you're all going about trying to kill innocent babies and teenagers?!"

" _You_ witches," Agnes repeats, her lips curling up. "You always want to be a witch until it isn't convenient for you, Salvatore. This is the way our Coven works, take it or leave it."

"No, this is the way crazy ass witches like yourself _make_ it work," Arabella corrects with narrowed eyes. "I have every piece of mind to sic a Mikaelson on you," She straightens up. "But I won't. If you tell me how to cure Hayley."

"There is no cure!" Agnes smiles wickedly. "The hell spawn will be dead by tomorrow," She plants her hands on the table and leans forward, watching Arabella in a way that makes the older vampire uneasy. "I know you must've used the Sorcerer's Talisman to take a peek into that child's future. I _know_ you saw what we did."

"All I saw is a baby that nature isn't going to be a fan of," Arabella shrugs, jaw clenching. "A baby. That's it. Whatever darkness that may follow, the Mikaelson's will--"

"The Mikaelson's are the worst of them all!" Agnes bursts, slamming her hands down. "Do you even know who created The Needle of Sorrows?"

"A Claire and Malchance witch?" Arabella guesses, thinking back to her first time in NOLA, when she first learned about all the spelled objects. "Along with every other dark object at your disposal."

"They _made_ it, yes, but do you know whose idea it was?" Agnes clicks her tongue, not waiting for a reply. She pulls a rusted bronze syringe from her pocket, holding it up like it's a prize. "Kol Mikaelson. He taught them how to do the spells, and those two witches just carried it out. Isn't that funny? The object used to kill the unborn Mikaelson was created _by_ a Mikaelson."

"I have a pretty dark sense of humor, but no, Agnes, I don't think that's funny," Arabella snaps, growing impatient. She speeds around the table, harshly yanking the Elder by her shirt collar and slamming her against the brick wall, the needle falling to the floor. Jade eyes turn violet and red as veins protrude beneath them. In a low, dangerous voice, she threatens, "Tell me how to undo your damn spell, or I will start breaking your fingers one by one before letting Klaus deal with you."

"What a happy little pair you two are," Agnes seethes. "Like I said. Dark objects can't be stopped."

"Magic always has a loophole--"

"No," Agnes laughs cruelly, shaking her head. "Not always."

Arabella stares down the older witch, growing angrier by the second. New Orleans couldn't have possibly always been this screwed up, could it? How did it fall so far? A group of witches hellbent on using children as sacrifices for power, vampires terrorizing the streets, and werewolves hiding in the swamps. It's a corpse of the city it once was.

And the worst part is, the Mikaelson's may be the only one's using any common sense in all of this. How messed up and ironic is that?

Arabella ears perk up at the sounds of footsteps approaching, and what sounds like... a police radio? She immediately backs off the witch, head snapping to the entryway of the backroom.

Two officers break through the curtains hanging over the doorway, going straight for Agnes.

"Agnes Travers, you are under arrest," That's _all_ they say, slamming the witch down on the table face first and cuffing her.

" _Excuse_ me?!" Agnes fumes, struggling against the officer's hold. "You can't do this to me! UNder what charge?"

They say nothing, pushing her out the room roughly. Arabella watches the scene unfold in confusion, her eyes falling on the spare officer as he walks over to where The Needle of Sorrows lays and picks it up, wrapping it up in a cloth.

"What the hell is going on?" Arabella stops him from leaving, a frown taking over her face. "You and I both know that's not how you properly arrest someone," Hesitantly, she adds, "Did Klaus Mikaelson send you?"

"No, Father Kieren did," The man shakes his head, tucking the cloth wrapped needle into his jacket. "But the vampire ordered it, I hear."

Arabella's brows shoot up as the cop turns and leaves. Clearly, police officers here in New Orleans are a bit more aware of their city's antics. Or at least, a few of them are.

For a split moment, Arabella considers stopping the officers and saving Agnes from inevitable death at Klaus' hands. Does she deserve it, after everything she's done? Most probably, yes. However, the Elder is still a witch. She is an important pillar in the witch community here in NOLA, and protecting her would gain Arabella some trust from the Covens.

But a bigger part of her screams to let her go. To let Klaus do what he pleases, and to kill her for the crimes she's inflicted upon innocents.

A part of Arabella that has been buried down for quite a while now, and is slowly yet surely clawing its way out from the pit of her stomach. A part that Elijah had warned her was coming undone.

And that part wins. 

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Agnes' last name is technically never said in the show, but let's just pretend it was Travers lmao.


	9. Chapter 7

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

For a thousand years, Elijah has had quite a reputation. All the Mikaelson siblings have. However, Elijah particularly has managed to keep a respectable and noble one. Somewhat.

While Finn was forgotten, Klaus was feared, Kol was seen as psychotic and Rebekah a brat, Elijah has always been the noble Original never seen outside of a suit. He appreciated the reputation, even though guilt gnawed away at him whenever someone saw him as the ‘good Mikaelson’.

However, despite this, he is still a Mikaelson. And he protects his family, always and forever. And if there is one thing that continuously seems to come in the way of Always and Forever, it is Niklaus. Whether it be his own selfishness, or paranoia, Klaus somehow always finds a way to bring new threats into the family.

In Elijah’s eyes, the latest threat is the 5’5”, curly haired, green eyed vampire-witch that Klaus seems to be attached to. Don’t be mistaken, Elijah doesn’t _hate_ Arabella. However, her presence and goals alarm him. Klaus should be focused on fatherhood, not pursuing a relationship with a woman who has no interest in him, and trying to take back a city from his adopted son. Distractions are what they are. And Elijah despises distractions.

Perhaps he wouldn’t be so cautious around the Salvatore had it not been for Klaus’ dodgy history with women. They all became threats (and dangerous one's at that) at some point or another.

So as soon as Elijah hears the door click open to the Mikaelson mansion, followed by the quiet breathing of Arabella Salvatore, he speeds there in an instance to perform his own form of an interrogation.

“Where is she?” For a moment, Arabella just stares at Elijah with a worn and irritated expression. She _just_ stepped foot into the household, and he’s already accusing her of something? “What did you do with her?”

“Who?”

“You _know_ who,” His dark eyes narrow. “What did you do with Hayley?”

“Hayley’s missing?” Arabella resists the urge to throw her head back and groan. One problem on top of another…

“Don’t act as if you know nothing of this,” His finger comes up in her face, and it takes every ounce of patience in Arabella’s body not to snap it in half. Not that she could, considering the strength difference. But oh how she would love to try.

“Brother!” Klaus has sped into the foyer before any more accusations can be thrown, standing protectively in front of Arabella. “She doesn’t have her.”

“And how can you be so sure, Niklaus?”

“Are you _seriously_ accusing me of this bullshit _again_?” Arabella stands on her tiptoes and peeks over Klaus’ shoulder, her brows scrunched together in anger. “Who the hell do you think you--”

“Alright, enough, both of you,” Klaus snaps, his voice rising over the two of them. He has not a clue what’s gotten into his older brother. Since when is he the mediator in _any_ situation? “Arguing is not going to find Hayley. We need a locator spell.”

“Finally, a helpful suggestion,” Arabella pats his arm, sending a final dirty glance Elijah’s way.

As she sets up the map and herbs in another room, and begins readying the bottle of Hayley’s blood Klaus oddly has stored away, the hybrid strides in to check on the progress. For a moment, he says nothing, simply leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, and watching in fascination as she expertly prepares. The silence should be awkward, but Arabella finds silences with Klaus have become… comfortable.

“What is it with the bickering between you and my brother?” Klaus finally speaks up, eyes still focused on the map. Arabella raises a brow.

“I told you once before: He doesn’t like me.”

“That’s what I can’t wrap my head around. Normally, _I’m_ the one who has trouble getting along with others,” He says in amusement, leaning off the wall and slowly approaching her. “The rare moments my brother is in a quarrel with someone, he generally has a good reason.”

Arabella looks up as he stops in front of the table, her pale greens narrowed. “So you think he has a good reason to hate me?”

“No. In fact, I can’t think of a reason he _would_ dislike you,” Klaus shrugs, his eyes meaningful. “So I’m asking you.”

“He doesn’t trust me. Thinks I’m becoming like you,” Arabella replies simply, tilting her head up. There’s an unreadable expression swirling in Klaus’ blue eyes, like he isn’t quite sure what she means. Looking down, in a small voice, she adds, “And honestly, I’m not so sure he’s wrong.”

Klaus opens his mouth to speak, to _object_ , to explain that his brother is a fool and Arabella is twice the person he has ever been and ever will be. To assure her, despite what she may think, that her heart is pure and good. However, Arabella closes her eyes and begins chanting under her breath, beginning the spell and thus ending their conversation. With a small sigh, the Original turns and leaves her to it.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“The Bayou,” Elijah and Klaus’ gazes both snap up as Arabella rushes into the room, map tucked under her arm and slightly breathless from the spell. The older of the brothers sits in an armchair, where he had been scowling at the crackling fire, while Klaus had been pacing nervously. “Back country, way past Houma. She’s deep in there.”

“I don’t suppose you could be more precise?” Elijah sighs.

“What's the matter, Elijah?” Klaus teases with a small smirk, the weight on his shoulders relieving now that they have a location. “You're worried a bit of splashing about in the bog might ruin your expensive shoes?” Arabella presses her lips together to hide the amused smile creeping on them.

“As a matter of fact, after my recent confinement, I could use a decent stroll through the countryside,” Elijah snaps, standing up and fixing his cufflinks.

“You know, I’ve heard stories about the wolves that have been hiding out there,” The younger vampire clicks her tongue, tossing the map on the table to allow both of them to study it. “I remember seeing this mark on Hayley’s shoulder… I think it might have something to do with her being there.”

“Clearly, she hopes to make the acquaintance of more like herself,” Klaus muses, giving a pointed look to Elijah. “I suppose our company wasn't good enough for her,” The older Original considers his words, staying silent.

As the brothers begin talking about a plan, and what exactly Hayley could be doing in the Bayou, Arabella weighs over the options herself. It doesn’t seem rational, a pregnant werewolf going out into the woods in the middle of the night. Especially so soon after an attack was aimed on her. Why would she possibly go there alone--

“ _Shit_ ,” The Mikaelson brothers both cease their speaking, frowning at the small curse that just left Arabella’s lips. She pays them no attention, staring down at the map with a mixture of horror and frustration. “Shit, shit, _shit_!”

“What is it?” Klaus steps forward with a deep frown. She looks up to meet his gaze, swallowing down the sudden worry creeping up her heart.

“I… _I think_ I might know who has her,” She watches Klaus’ expression grimly. “But before I tell you, you need to promise me you won’t go all murder and vengeance mode on me.”

“Who has her?” Elijah presses, stepping beside his brother with a dark gaze. Arabella eyes both of them, knowing her words won’t exactly settle well.

“Tyler Lockwood," It's a vague guess, but she has a sneaking suspicion it's true. Hayley wouldn't just up and leave without telling anyone, and considering her last encounter with Tyler, this seems to make far more sense.

For a moment, Klaus says nothing, his face remaining still and somewhat calm to the oblivious eye. But Arabella has been around Klaus long enough to know exactly when he is about to reach his witt’s end. The way his eyes swirl with oncoming rage, his lips twitch and eyebrows slowly begin to lower… he’s on the verge of a signature Klaus Mikaelson meltdown, as she likes to call them.

“He’s still on some wild revenge scheme against you,” She continues, keeping her eyes on the hybrid. “When I was in Virginia, he mentioned knowing about Hayley and the baby--”

“And you only mention this _now_?” Elijah snaps angrily, glaring down at her. Arabella holds her hands up defensively.

“I didn’t think he’d actually be stupid enough to go _through_ with it,” She counters. “Clearly, his anger against Klaus outweighs any common sense.”

“Why would you little hybrid sidekick from Mystic Falls have any interest in Hayley?” Elijah turns towards his brother. Klaus and Arabella exchange a glance, the younger of the two crossing her arms with a raised brow.

“You wanna tell him, or should I?”

“ He was loyal in the beginning, but he grew insubordinate, turned my other hybrids against me. I couldn't have that, so I massacred the lot of them. Tyler ran like a coward before I could finish him off,” Klaus explains like he’s talking about he had for lunch yesterday. Elijah stares at his younger brother with a dull expression, Arabella slapping his bicep lightly.

“And what did you do after killing his pack, Klaus?”

“ _My_ pack,” He corrects her quickly, glaring. “And then, of course, there was the business with his mum…”

“You killed his mother,” Elijah throws his hands up in exasperation. “Wonderful.”

“Let’s not forget you tried to steal his girl after almost killing her,” Arabella pipes, attempting to conceal her amusement.

“That was _one time_ \--”

“Enough,” Elijah glares at both of them. “We don’t have time. As we speak, this Lockwood boy could be hurting Hayley. We need to find them, _now_.”

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

After getting a ride in Elijah’s luxury car (which was perhaps the _least_ subtle form of transportation they could’ve taken), the three of them arrive in the Bayou. It’s a swamp like forest, smelling deeply of Earth and wet grass, not exactly the most pleasant place in Louisiana.

As soon as they step out of the car, Arabella speeds off to go find other supernatural auras within the trees. More importantly, that of a non-Original hybrid and a pregnant werewolf.

The Bayou seems to be crawling with werewolves, which just makes her all the more uneasy. She can _feel_ them, but can’t see them. Considering how dangerous a werewolf bite is to a vampire like herself, Arabella isn’t exactly thrilled to be trekking about these swamps.

Finding Tyler, however, turns out to be much easier than expected. The overwhelming energy of a hybrid emits from a small wooden shack by the lake, but the energy is too much to be just _one_ hybrid.

Instead of dwelling about what kind of creature is inside, Arabella decides to take her chances and investigate. As soon as she throws the door open, however, she’s met with a much different sight than expected.

A tall, bulky brunet wrestles against Tyler, his eyes glowing yellow with a murky black surrounding them, veins hungrily moving beneath. Hayley, however, is nowhere to be seen. A few droplets of her blood are on the floor, along with a snapped off zip tie, so Arabella can only hope she managed to escape.

Before the fight can continue on any longer, the vampire-witch holds out a hand, her eyes glowing as a spell takes place. The hybrid fighting Tyler suddenly backs away with a pained expression, eyes glazing over as his heart is telekinetically ripped from his chest and flies right into Arabella’s awaiting palm.

“Ew,” She grimaces, dropping the bloody heart and wiping her hand on the wooden wall. Tyler, panting, straightens up, glaring at her dangerously. “I really look forward to the day that you become _grateful_ when I save you sorry ass.”

“I had it handled,” Tyler snaps, brushing his hand off on his jeans, eyes darting around the shack. “Where the hell did she go?”

“It is getting _incredibly_ hard to convince Klaus not to kill you. And myself, if we’re being honest,” Arabella seethes, glaring daggers at the half-breed. “Do I need to call Caroline to come bring your leash and drag you back to Mystic Falls? What were you thinking--”

“Shut up,” Tyler shoves past her, stepping out of the shack. “I broke up with her.”

“Oh good, I don’t need to keep you alive anymore,” Arabella shrugs, only half joking. “You know Klaus will kill you for threatening his child, don’t you?”

“I have nothing left to lose,” Tyler whips around. “You wanna know why? Because of _him_! He took away everything that ever mattered me, that made my life worth living. So I’m gonna take away the one thing he wants most.”

“Stupid, reckless, suicidal, idiotic… must I go on?” Arabella lists them off on her fingers, speeding in front of Tyler before he can go any further. “You’re depressed. Go home, get some therapy, maybe pop some happy pills, and then reconsider this plan when you’re in the right state of mind.”

“Not until I get rid of that baby,” He shakes his head angrily, jaw clenching tightly and the vein in his forehead pounding. “He doesn’t get to have that kind of power.”

“What power? Fatherhood?” She snorts, crossing her arms. This is ridiculous. Arabella knows Tyler can be reckless and stupid, but this is a whole other level.

“Wait,” Suddenly, the anger vanishes from Tyler’s eyes and is replaced with something else… _amusement_. It’s unsettling, frankly. “You don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?”

“You really think Klaus _wants_ to be a dad?” Tyler laughs humorlessly, shaking his head.

“Believe it or not, Lockwood, people are capable of change,” Arabella narrows her eyes. At this point, she’ll openly defend Klaus, no matter what judgement will be received. “What the hell are you going on about?”

“That ‘baby’ Hayley is carrying?” Tyler holds up finger quotes. “It can make hybrids,” Arabella feels her throat go dry suddenly, her eyes drifting back to the shack. “Yeah, I can see you putting the pieces together. Dwayne, the guy you just killed, was a hybrid. Go ahead and guess who's blood created him.”

She wants to defend Klaus, to shoot down Tyler’s accusations… but how can she? Tyler just provided evidence and proof of what Klaus and Hayley’s baby can do… what it can _create_. And Arabella wants to believe it’s not true, but let’s be real here. If someone like _Tyler Lockwood_ could put that together, what’s to say Klaus didn’t?

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

For once, as Klaus went threatening the life of Tyler, Arabella didn’t interfere. One, because she’s trying to think over her next moves carefully. Two, because, well, she doesn’t really feel like it. Lockwood is a big boy and can take care of himself this time.

She sits in a chair on the porch of the shack, overlooking the swampy waters floating with fresh greens and broken sticks. By now, the conclusion has been reached that whatever werewolves that lurk in these parts hide away when anyone (especially vamps) come to visit, so Arabella can sit comfortably without having to worry too much about getting bit.

Well, perhaps not _comfortably_. But in all honesty, when is comfort ever associated with the Mikaelson family? With Klaus, in particular?

Arabella shouldn’t be so angry about this, she knows that. Coming to New Orleans, she made herself a promise she wouldn’t get too involved in the Mikaelson’s lives. Getting involved meant, inevitably, getting closer to Klaus, which doesn’t exactly settle well for the already pesky butterflies that multiply in her stomach every time he’s near her.

Not to mention, this child is honestly none of her concern. Not her kid, not her pregnancy, not her family.

And yet, the more she thinks about it, the angrier she gets. Everyone that has been willing to go through hell and back to protect _his_ unborn daughter, to help him get the gift that is apparently fatherhood (as Elijah likes to put it). And he’s been using all of them all along, tricking them, just to have a plan to use a _baby_ for his own personal gain?

It pisses her off, to put it lightly.

“There you are,” Arabella doesn’t look Klaus’ way as he steps out from the bushy greens and trees, a bloody hole in his shirt. Seems Tyler got a hit in after all. “I didn’t kill him, if that’s why you’re here brooding-- death would be far too merciful. Sent him running with his tail tucked between his legs.”

Arabella says nothing, clenching her jaw so tightly her ears ring. He frowns at her silence, but is quickly distracted by the heartless hybrid on the floor.

“What’s this?”

“You have eyes, don’t you?” She mutters in response, still not looking his way. Klaus sighs heavily, bending down and inspecting the corpse. After a moment, his brows knit together in pure confusion.

“This is a hybrid.”

“Mm hm.”

“I didn’t sire him,” Klaus stands back up, looking up to try and catch the eyes of the younger vampire. “How is this possible?”

Arabella scoffs. “Don’t play dumb, Klaus. It’s a bad look.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“You know, we’re idiots,” She laughs dryly, shaking her head and standing up. “Every single one of us. Me, Elijah, Rebekah… even Hayley. We sat around, trying to _help_ you, as if you actually ever wanted our help to begin with,” A pointed glare is set Klaus’ way. “And now, you’re _still_ trying to play it off. Do you really think I’m _that_ stupid?”

“You already know what I think of you,” Klaus shoots down her words quickly, brows lowered in suspicion and confusion as he takes a slow step forward. “Now mind informing me of what exactly you’re accusing?”

Again, she laughs, without any indication of humor mixed in. Klaus says nothing, keeping that confused look in his eyes, simply aggravating her further.

“The hybrid isn’t your sire, Klaus, you’re right,” She nods, waving a hand towards the dead body. “It’s your daughter’s, created from _her_ blood.”

For a moment, he just stares at her, an equal mixture of shock and slight horror swirling within his blue-greens. Arabella’s got to admit, he’s doing a good job keeping the act up.

“ _What_?”

“You know, I would actually believe this whole confused, shocked reaction if I wasn’t so used to you just flat out _lying_ to everyone’s faces all the time,” She shakes her head.

“You really believe I knew of this?” Klaus asks, not quite understanding _how_ she can believe that. “You believe _Lockwood_ over _me_ \--”

“Well, he provided proof and evidence, didn’t he?” Arabella bursts, pointing towards the body. “And I…I’m pathetic,” She realizes, pushing her hair back with both hands. “We all are. I sat around, helping take care of Hayley, getting involved in all your family _crap_ , even though I told myself I wouldn’t! A logical part of me _screamed_ at me to not get involved, but I wanted, in my heart, I _really_ wanted to believe that you were trying to make yourself a better person. And how could I sit back and not help you do that? But you were just using all of us all along, weren’t you?”

“I know I’ve lied to you many times, Arabella, and for that I do apologize,” Klaus begins, attempting to keep his voice steady. “But this? Yes, on _this_ I expect you to believe _me_ , over someone who has been out for my neck long before today!” His voice raises to a yell by the end, the anger evident.

“You have _no idea_ how badly I want to believe you,” Arabella shakes her head, glaring at him. “But every time I give you my trust, you break it like it never meant a thing to you. You break it like you break everything else… ” She can see it, the hurt that hits him with those words, the glassiness that forms in her eyes. But she continues, despite it. “... like it’s worthless.”

Klaus is silent, not because he has nothing to say, but because he’s afraid if he opens his mouth, his own voice will betray him.

“So what was the plan, huh?” She narrows her eyes. “Baby’s born, you kill Hayley, dagger your siblings, get rid of me if I don't cooperate, make a little hybrid army and take over the world? All while knowing you managed to trick every single one of us?”

Arabella stands up, breathing a bit heavily from her rant, waiting for him to say something. To fess up about his lies, or even to try and make up more.

The last thing she expects is exactly what happens.

“You and I both know there aren’t many on my side. Elijah and Rebekah don’t trust me, Hayley despises me, but you?” The crack in Klaus’ voice catches Arabella off guard, as does the tears welling up in his eyes. “I thought I had you. I _thought_ I managed to prove to you I was trying to be a better person, _long before_ the ideations of fatherhood ever crossed my mind!”

He points an accusing finger at her, and it’s then Arabella realizes-- the glassiness in his eyes isn’t from sadness, or pain. It’s the anger, the betrayal that formed this raise in emotions. The realization that the _one_ person who was supposed to be on his side… isn’t.

And it’s like automatic regret hits her all at once.

“You know better than most the pain and horrors only a father can inflict upon their kin,” Klaus continues, steadying his voice now as he blinks away the tears. It doesn’t change the hurt in his eyes, and Arabella can only stand back and watch him go on, not quite sure _what_ to say. “So _you_ should know better than to think that I would _ever_ use my own baby’s blood to make a bloody army of hybrids I have no interest in! But it’s only to be expected, isn’t it?” A wall builds back in his eyes as he comes strikingly close to her face, lips turned down distastefully. “Everyone else in my life has abandoned and betrayed me at some point or another, so what makes _you_ any different?”

The gift of voice seems to bestow itself to Arabella once again, and she manages to say, “Klaus, I--”

“I’m sure you can find your way home with Elijah,” He snaps, cutting her off, before turning and storming back into the shack, the flimsy door slamming behind him.

Arabella stares at the spot Klaus once stood for a moment, feeling an equal mixture of regret and guilt fill her heart.

“Shit.”

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•


	10. Chapter 8

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

The moist ground of the Bayou squelches unpleasantly beneath Arabella’s feet as she stomps through it, squinting her eyes in the darkening surroundings for any signs of Elijah and Hayley.

After her little argument with Klaus, she had gone back to Elijah’s car to wait for he and Hayley to return. After sitting on the hood for what seemed like forever, she finally decided to go out and find them.

“Better have not left me here,” She mutters under her breath, listening closely for any sounds. The faint echo of Hayley’s voice manages to reach her ears, coming from the direction of the shack. Arabella frowns, before speeding off to go reach her destination.

As expected, both Hayley and Elijah are in the shack when she arrives. Both look up as Arabella throws open the door, Elijah sitting on the edge of a lumpy bed and Hayley looking through a book.

“Well, good to see you two are just hanging out,” Arabella crosses her arms. Sarcastically, she adds, “Any plans to leave, or are we camping out here tonight?”

Hayley shrugs. “Actually…”

“Wait, seriously? You’re staying overnight in the _Bayou_?”

“I am,” Elijah stands up wearily, steadying himself with the wall. Arabella’s eyes narrow as she takes in his rather sickly appearance. “But Hayley, you should go back with Arabella.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Hayley shakes her head firmly.

“ _Why_ are you staying in the swamp?” Arabella pipes, pointing her frown to Elijah. He sighs.

“Niklaus bit me, as some form of punishment.”

“And then left us here, like the ass he is,” Hayley adds, glaring down at the book like Klaus’ face is embedded on it.

“Ah,” Arabella clicks her tongue, falling down into a wooden rocking chair. “Let me guess-- you accused him of wanting to use the baby to make hybrids?”

Elijah arches a brow at her correct observation. “How did you know?”

“Cause I did the same thing.”

“Of course you did, because it’s _Klaus_. We’d be stupid to think he actually _wants_ to be a dad,” Hayley quickly says, seeing the regret forming in both their eyes. She sighs, slumping back against the wall. “Don’t tell me you two seriously feel _bad_. I mean, he bit Elijah!”

“Well…” Arabella purses her lips, sharing a glance with Elijah, who, for once, seems to be on the same side as her. “It’s Klaus. When he feels angry, or misunderstood, or _betrayed_ , he gets violent and reckless. We believed Tyler Lockwood over _him_ , without even hearing his side out first,” Hayley opens her mouth to say something, but the older quickly cuts in. “I’m not saying what he did was _okay_ , but… we should’ve given him the benefit of the doubt.”

Elijah raises a brow at her words, slightly impressed. It’s rare to find _anyone_ (family included) who can understand Klaus’ actions. Generally, his misdemeanors are seen as nothing but a threat, and those nearby scrutinize him for it. With good reason, of course, but Arabella doesn’t seem to do that. It makes him wonder-- _why_? What's goes on in her head, that instead of seeing Klaus as the monster everyone else sees him as, she sees someone misunderstood?

She sees the _truth_.

He wipes the droplets of sweat forming on his forehead, nodding in agreement. “She’s right. As hot headed and stubborn as my brother can be… perhaps for once in his life, his intentions are pure. Though I don’t forgive this petty act of violence he’s decided to display, I also cannot say it isn’t entirely deserved.”

He lets out a heavy breath, sitting back on the bed and closing his eyes for a moment in slight pain. Arabella knows far too well how quickly the toxins in Klaus’ venom can act, and though Elijah is far more durable than she is, the pain must still be immense.

She stands up suddenly, walking over to a wobbly table and pulling little sacks of herbs and vials of strange liquids from inside her trench coat. Laying them out, she pulls out three more small, empty vials from her pocket and begins to drop a few herbs inside.

“What are you doing?” Hayley asks curiously, coming beside her to watch the magic take place.

“Making a medicine of sorts, for the bite,” Arabella explains, turning over the sacks with her finger to read the labels. “Doesn’t cure it, but it does subdue the pain,” She clicks her tongue when she doesn’t find what she’s looking for. “I have everything for it, but pickerelweed. It’s fine, though, I saw some growing a few yards from the shack. I’ll just go quickly get--"

“I can get it,” Hayley quickly offers, already making her way to the door. Her hazel eyes drift nervously to Elijah, uneasily watching him attempt to overcome the increasing pain.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, you keep doing that, I need to stretch my legs anyway,” The werewolf nods, motioning towards the herbs laid out. “What does it look like?”

After briefly explaining the appearance of the plant, Hayley goes to complete her task, leaving Arabella and Elijah alone in the shack.

It’s silent between them, at first, nothing but the sounds but Elijah’s heavy breathing and Arabella’s soft chanting filling the empty space.

“She cares about you,” Arabella finally breaks it, keeping her eyes on the mixtures. “But I’ve been around vampires who are bit-- hell, I was in your position once, too. I know the hallucinations, and visions, especially how quickly they form from Klaus’ bite… will she be safe with you?”

Elijah, who had decided to lie back on the bed, looks up, tongue swiping over his lips quickly. “I would never intentionally hurt her,” He finally says. The younger vampire glances at him for a moment, shrugging. “Niklaus bit you?”

“Uh, yeah,” Arabella laughs dryly at the memory, shaking her head. “Saved me at the last minute.”

“Why?”

“Don’t know. Never asked,” She shrugs, picking up a dried flower and crumbling it into the vials. Elijah is silent again, thinking over something to say. After a quiet sigh, he finally speaks up.

“It’s generous for you to help me,” His words cause Arabella to stop her mixing and turn around, one brow arched high. “After all, I haven’t exactly been hospitable towards you.”

“Really?” Arabella mocks shock, laying a hand over her heart. “You’re telling me that _wasn’t_ your welcoming side? Well, I’m shocked, I really am,” She drops the sarcasm, rolling her eyes. “Trust me, I know. _Rebekah_ was more welcoming than you, and that’s saying something.”

Elijah presses his lips together, nodding with slight guilt on his shoulders. Truly, he _does_ feel bad for how he acted. Especially now that Arabella is here, creating a mixture to subdue his pain when she could very well leave him to suffer.

“It’s nothing personal, you see,” He sits up, leaning against the headboard. “Anybody my brother seems to bring into our lives-- especially a woman-- generally ends up being a threat towards our family. But I’m seeing now, perhaps I was wrong to assume you would be the same.”

Arabella lets out a sharp breath through her nostrils in amusement, pouring a bit of blood into the vial. “Well, you _are_ indecisive, Elijah. What changed your mind? This?” She points to the vial. Elijah shakes his head.

“Partly, but no,” He watches her closely. “You accept him, for who he is, and rather than trying to change him, you try to understand him,” He explains thoughtfully. “That’s a rare occurrence for someone like Niklaus.”

“Y’know, I can’t tell if you’re being nice,” Arabella pushes the vials to the side, the finishing touch being the flower Hayley has yet to retrieve. “Or if this is going to be followed up by another list of reasons why I am slowly becoming like Klaus.”

Elijah clicks his tongue, wiping a new sheen of sweat forming on his forehead and upper lip. “The only reason I said that was for your own benefit, Arabella,” She turns fully towards him now, a deep frown on her face. “You have a good heart, and a clever mind. I would hate to see it tainted by someone like Niklaus.”

Before they can say anymore, Hayley throws the door open to the shack, clutching a few long stems of the large, bullet shaped flowers. Thankfully so, as Arabella isn’t quite sure what how she would reply to Elijah. He has a unique way with words, a way that leaves her stumped and confused, while also questioning everything and anything.

It’s frustrating.

“Sorry that took so long, these were harder to find than I thought,” Hayley sheepishly admits, laying the flowers on the table. Arabella grabs them and plucks the small violet petals off the stem, closing her eyes and chanting softly. They levitate in the air and slowly begin to crumple, small, liquid droplets squeezing from them and into the vials.

As soon as the spell in complete, she shakes each vial well, tossing one to Elijah and handing the other two to Hayley.

“One every three hours,” Elijah nods, bringing it to his lips and downing it in one go. The Original’s face scrunches up at the unpleasant taste. “Yeah, tastes like poison, but it helps.”

“Thank you,” Elijah nods gratefully, earning a tight lipped smile in return.

“I should go,” Arabella decides, glancing at the darkness falling over the once bright sky. She looks over at Hayley. “You sure you don’t wanna come?”

“I don’t want to leave him,” She shakes her head, looking over at Elijah with slight worry.

With a small sigh, Arabella nods, bidding a quick farewell to the pair before trekking out. Elijah offered her his keys and car, but she denied, deciding that she can walk back herself.

Besides, Arabella needs the time to think.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Klaus is nowhere to be found.

Coming back from the Bayou, Arabella had initially checked the mansion, which was completely empty of all its usual residents. She had proceeded to go to the church, then the cemetery, before finally sneaking around the Quarter in search of him. However, everywhere, including the bars, were empty of Klaus Mikaelson.

The only place she neglected to check? The Abattoir, and after every other place failed her, she had a pretty sure guess as to what exactly was going on. The vampires rushing to the large building while whispering amongst each other only confirmed her suspicions.

However, she needs to know the details first.

And that is why Arabella stands outside an auto garage on the docks, listening closely for the heartbeat she seeks out. A small smirk curls on her lips when it beats rhythmically from within.

Joshua Rosza calmly stands over his car, peeking into the hood and inspecting it closely.

He’s on the much younger side of the vampiric race, and the human race, for that matter. Fresh out of high school and turned while just trying to enjoy a trip to the Crescent City, only to get compelled to be a minion for Klaus. Arabella almost feels bad for him. She would feel worse if he didn’t currently have information she needs.

“Hello, Josh,” The younger vampire flinches noticeably, slamming his hood shut and whipping around. He seems to tense up more when he notices Arabella, his dark eyes remaining wide and fearful.

“Wow, you and Klaus really like to sneak up on people,” He laughs nervously. “Did he teach you that?”

“I don’t need Klaus to teach me anything,” Arabella smiles sweetly, her hands tucked into the pockets of her coat. “I have plenty of tricks of my own.”

In a millisecond, she’s sped up to him so they stand only an arms length apart, arching a brow.

“You seem nervous, Josh. Your heart is drumming at a mile a minute.”

“Y-yeah, I mean, I just get nervous around superpowered vampire-witches, that’s all,” He takes a step back and awkwardly bumps into the car. Arabella tilts her head slightly, frowning.

“You sure that’s all? Nothing else?” She turns around, taking slow steps away from him. “You see, I can’t find Klaus anywhere. I’ve checked everywhere, but he’s nowhere to be found, and then I realized what was really going on. Now,” Stopping after a few steps, she turns back around with a hard gaze. “Why don’t you tell me what Marcel is planning at the Abattoir?”

Josh gulps, his knuckles turning white from the grip he has on his hood. He shrugs shakily.

“I don’t know. If I knew something, I would have to tell Klaus, cause he compelled me, right?” He quickly points out. Arabella nods, clicking her tongue.

“Yes, you would,” Her lips turn down, and before Josh knows it, she has him pinned against the far wall by his throat, slowly tightening her grip and lessening his air supply. “Unless you had a powerful witch to undo the compulsion… Davina Claire, let’s say?”

It took her awhile to put it together, truthfully. The entire day. If Josh hadn’t been _here_ , while all the other vampires were in the Quarter, Arabella would’ve decided she was wrong.

By the way Josh’s heart is hammering, she isn’t wrong.

“W-who?” Josh attempts to lie, a strangled gasp escaping his lips as Arabella tightens her grip.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be. Tell me, or I’ll start raising the temperature on different parts of your body,” Josh’s eyes widen in terror as her own eyes begin to glow violet. “Maybe we should start with the eyes?”

Not waiting for him to answer, Arabella begins to use her magic to focus it solely on his orbital region. Josh’s breathing begins to labor as he blinks rapidly, the pain increasing as the temperature does as well.

“Okay, okay!” He screams, head slamming back against the wall to try and stop the pain. Arabella releases her hold on him, allowing Josh to fall to the floor and squeeze his palms to his eyes. “You didn’t have to actually do it, the threats were enough!”

Letting out an annoyed sigh, Arabella fists up his collar and yanks him up, growing impatient. However, her mood shifts when Josh’s eyes meet hers.

“Please don’t k-kill me.”

They’ve grown red and teary, his face flushed with sweat and screwed up in pain. The realization hits Arabella a bit harder than she would’ve liked.

Josh isn’t even twenty-one yet. He’s basically a kid, who came to New Orleans for a fun vacation and ended up getting turned into a vampire against his will, and was then forced to become a minion for Klaus. And above that, Arabella has heard how painful wiping compulsion from someone’s mind can be. She can only imagine the pain is worse when it’s an Original. All this, done to someone who doesn’t even meet the legal drinking age yet.

The guilt of what she just did weighs heavily on her shoulders like bricks, and Elijah’s words flash through her mind.

‘ _How many of your morals will you break for him?’_

Arabella releases Josh quickly, staggering back a few steps. She swallows down the sudden regret that washes over her, attempting to compose herself.

“I’m not going to kill you, Josh,” She says softly, pursing her lips tightly. “Just talk.”

“Rebekah and Marcel have this plan,” Josh leans back against the wall, breathing heavily. “To take down Klaus, with some magic knife, or something. I don’t know much, okay! All I know is that Marcel wanted to lure you in too, but Rebekah said you’d be smart enough to not go near whatever weird murder orgy they’re planning.”

Arabella sighs heavily, feeling the urge to scream out a string of very colorful curses right here in the middle of the garage. Turning on her heel, she begins to march out to the exit.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“To prove Rebekah wrong.”

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•


	11. Chapter 9

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Marcel considers himself a good leader.

He knows there are many who would disagree with that statement, but it doesn’t make it any less true. And in honesty, he _is_ a good leader.

To those who remain loyal to him.

All the others… well, they can burn in hell for all he cares.

When Klaus first came to New Orleans, Marcel was weary of his presence, with good reason. He had heard all about the trouble and chaos the Mikaelsons' had brewed up in Virginia, and had no interest in any of it. But at the same time, he was… happy. Happy to have his mentor back, despite how much he had wronged him in past lives. Perhaps they could finally start on a new leaf, a leaf in which Marcel no longer had to cower in Klaus' shadow, and could be treated as an equal. 

And then Elijah followed. And Rebekah. Though neither of them put him on edge quite like Arabella did. The Sorceress who had gotten away. The girl who tried to spark a revolution against him, back again, this time with _Klaus Mikaelson_ by her side. No matter how much Klaus tried to convince Marcel her views had shifted in the last few decades, he refused to trust her.

And with good reason. According to a freshly un-compelled Josh, Arabella was just as much of a liar and traitor as Klaus was. He expected no better from her, but Rebekah had convinced him to let her go. Convinced him that the Salvatore is clever, and would know better than to risk getting bricked up again. So though he may not trust Arabella, he trusted Rebekah’s opinion.

Too bad they’re both wrong.

After luring Klaus into the Abattoir, and surrounding him with an army of vamps, Marcel truly thought they had the upper hand. Klaus was struggling to fight them off, and even Rebekah seemed confident with their plan as she eagerly clutched the dagger in her hand, ready to plunge it into her brother’s heart. Everything is going according to plan.

Until it isn’t.

“ _Delfan eoten cor_.”

That _damn_ voice, always popping up at the worst possible times…

Marcel whips around, gaze darkening dangerously as he sees the _last_ person he expected to be here.

Arabella storms into the building, her eyes glowing brightly and face set like stone, hands outstretched in a powerful spell. The hearts of two nearby vampires rip from their chests, and fly straight into her awaiting palms. She eyes them for a moment distastefully, before abruptly dropping them to the floor.

Rebekah notices his sudden mood change, following his gaze as well. Her face drops at the sight of Arabella, an equal mixture of disappointment and defeat taking over her blue eyes.

“Marcel!” Arabella shouts over the chaos, turning their attention away from Klaus’ fight. “What the _hell_ did you do?!”

“What did _I_ do? You and Klaus started this fight,” Marcel shoots back, pointing an accusing finger at her. Arabella marches up to him, scoffing in annoyance as a small group of vampires protectively stand in front of their leader.

She acts quickly, speeding up to the first vamp and looping an arm around their neck, snapping it with ease. Using a small burst of magic, three others are thrown against the far end of the room. As the last vampire comes in for an attack, Arabella bares her teeth and speeds forward, easily plunging her hand through their chest and ripping their heart out.

Once her path is clear, she walks up to Marcel, holding his gaze as she drops the heart at his feet in disgust. Little splatters of blood spray on both their legs, but she could care less. Her hands are already drenched in it, and messy droplets of the murky red cover her face and clothing.

“Should’ve known from the start… once a traitor, always a traitor,” Marcel spits. Arabella ignores him, turning her gaze to Rebekah, who clutches the dagger so tightly her hand shakes.

“Don’t look at me like that,” She raises the dagger and points it at Arabella, shaking her head. “You have no idea what it’s like to have Niklaus as a brother for a thousand years… he deserves this! My niece will be better off without him.”

“Do you honestly believe that?”

“It was stupid of you to come,” Rebekah ignores her question, glaring at the younger. “When picking a side in a war, Klaus is always the evil. You should know this by now.”

Arabella says nothing, not really having anything to say. Instead, she turns back to where Klaus had been getting beaten up earlier; her priority isn’t to argue with Rebekah, it’s to help him.

But by the looks of it, help is the last thing he needs.

For a split moment, it looks like Marcel’s army has won, having Klaus held in chains by both arms, his head hung. However, a low growl begins to escape his throat, so quiet, yet so loud among the vampires.

And it’s then that defeat is quite clear. Even Rebekah drops her dagger, paralyzed in fear, as the realization hits her strongly.

The feral, almost psychotic side of Klaus… the side that Arabella hasn’t seen since he first arrived in Mystic Falls, seems to come out as he overpowers the group of vampires around him, killing them like they’re flies in his way.

“Marcel! Come and finish this!” He roars, eyes flashing yellow and blood coating his face. Marcel, angrily, rushes to fight, but is stopped by Rebekah.

“No!” She frantically grabs his arm. “Pick up the coin.”

“ _What_?”

“He won’t stop until everyone is dead,” Rebekah explains shakily, and Arabella’s eyes follow hers to the bronze coin laying on the floor. She feels a bit of confusion take over, but can take a guess as to what it symbolizes-- a white flag of surrender. “And he _will_ kill you too!”

“She’s right,” Arabella realizes, turning towards Marcel as well. “He’ll kill your entire army. Be a damn leader and _pick it up_.”

Marcel seems conflicted between watching the fight unfold and helping, or listening to the women. He thinks about it for a good moment-- almost too long, by the sounds of hearts ripping out and vampires screeching in pain from venomous bites. However, finally, _finally_ , he makes a move.

“Enough!” Marcel’s voice booms over the chaos, an eerie silence falling over the large group of vampires. The fighting ceases, the army watching their leader bend down and pick up the coin. It’s a simple enough action, but what it symbolizes is far from simple.

Klaus won.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

The Garden, even after all these years, still manages to set an uneasiness and fear in Arabella’s bones.

Walking into the cave-like underground region of the Quarter, she didn’t expect to be this _nervous_. Heart hammering so hard she’s sure every vamp in the building can hear it, and head spinning with memories of those dreadful three years… Arabella isn’t happy to be down here. But someone is down here that perhaps shouldn’t be. Or maybe they should. Who’s she to say?

It’s quite easy to find the freshly bricked up individual, and with a small sigh, Arabella punches into the rocks, harshly swiping at them to allow the wall to crumble away.

Tyler falls forward, making no move to catch himself on the ground. He lets out a pained grunt as his palms and knees make contact with the flooring, temporary cuts slashing through them. 

After the fight in the Bayou, he had come to get help from Marcel's army, revealing Hayley's pregnancy to them. However, considering that he wanted to _kill_ the baby, Marcel had bricked him up. Arabella had overheard a few vampires talking about a hybrid bricked up in The Garden, and immediately knew who it was. 

He looks up slowly, and for once, there isn’t anger in his dark eyes as he meets Arabella’s pale one's. Instead, there’s just defeat, and a kind of sadness the older vampire understands far too well.

“Why?”

Arabella sighs, leaning against the wall and staring up at the darkness above. “Marcel doesn’t run the Quarter anymore-- he handed it over to Klaus.”

“Of course he did,” Tyler scoffs, sitting back on his knees. “I heard what was going on up there. You gonna make me fight Klaus too?”

“God, no,” Arabella lets out a short breath of disbelief, shaking her head. “I’m letting you go. Go back home, Tyler.”

Tyler stares down at his hands, face remaining quite stoic. “Why? So I can go back to an empty house, my ex who hates me, and no pack?”

Arabella presses her lips together tightly, watching him wallow in his own self pity. She can only imagine how emotionally exhausted he must be to complain to _her_.

“You tried to kill an innocent, unborn baby-- one whose only fault in life is sharing the blood of a man with a million enemies. That’s all kinds of wrong, and I know you know that,” When Tyler doesn’t meet her gaze, she sighs, deciding to focus it on a desiccated vampire on the opposite wall. “But… I understand. Decades ago, I was consumed with revenge, like you. So much so that I tried to kill someone I care about. But life moves on, even when it seems like you have nothing left.”

She knows her words won’t mean much to him-- the orphaned hybrid who cut off all ties and traveled to Louisiana with nothing but a death wish. But at least he can think them over, and maybe, just _maybe_ , have enough common sense to stop causing so many problems for her.

Walking over to where Tyler kneels, Arabella slowly crouches down, finally getting him to meet her eyes.

“But listen closely, Lockwood. If I _ever_ catch word of you in New Orleans, with a new revenge scheme against Klaus or his child… I’ll kill you myself. Are we clear?”

She doesn’t wait for a response, standing up and walking away from him, ready to leave this God forsaken place.

“It’s not my life you should concern yourself with,” Tyler speaks up, grunting as he stands. Arabella halts in her tracks, listening but not turning. “So loyal to him… You’ve seen the way Klaus treats his own family. What do you think will happen to _you_?”

Arabella is silent for a moment, mentally kicking herself for faltering with words. “Go home, Tyler,” She finally says, continuing out.

He’s right, and she hates that he is.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Klaus had his victory.

The Abattoir is his again, and as he walks out into the Quarter, ready to embark back to the mansion to pick up a few things, he can't help but think about how bittersweet this all truly is. It really shouldn’t be, seeing as he has his beloved kingdom once again.

But what is a kingdom with no loyalty, no one by his side to make it worth ruling?

Arabella had come back, at the last second, and though it brought slight ease to his heart knowing someone, the most _important_ someone, was on his side again, it doesn’t quite fix anything. It doesn’t fix that his own family is not on his side, that his child will probably grow up to resent him by this point.

It doesn’t fix the fact that his relationship with Arabella is as durable as a tower made of toothpicks. One day they fight, the next they get along, and throughout all of it, she never trusts him. He’s just waiting for the day that she’s had enough and packs up her things, leaving him once and for all. It’s bound to come sooner or later, and Klaus dreads the moment that he realizes, once again, he is infinitely and utterly alone.

The Original is so caught up in his brooding thoughts that he fails to notice the rushed footsteps behind him, only getting snapped back into reality by _that_ voice. A voice that has managed to brighten up his worse days, like music to his ears, even when it’s being used to say something sarcastic and offensive.

The absolute last voice he wants to hear right now.

“Klaus!” Arabella scowls at the elder as he keeps his quick pace, walking through the dark and nearly empty streets of the French Quarter. After freeing Tyler, she had come back up to talk to him, only to barely catch him leaving. “What, you gonna leave me again?”

“You’re a big girl, Arabella,” Klaus calls, not bothering to turn his head and slow his speed. “I’m sure you can find your own way home.”

“Oh, sure, you’re right,” Tired of his petty antics, she comes to a stubborn stop. “My _home_ back in Mystic Falls is sounding real tempting right about now.”

Klaus, finally, stops, turning his head slightly as he thinks over her words. Finally, he says, “Go back to your small little town, see if I care.”

Before he can storm away again, Arabella speeds in front of him, blocking his path. Klaus huffs in annoyance, taking a step back from the sudden blockage.

“Can you not act like a child for five minutes?” Arabella snaps, frowning at him. Klaus returns her frown with a cold glare. “You’re welcome, by the way. For coming to help you tonight.”

He scoffs, side stepping her and continuing on his way. “I didn’t ask for your help, nor did I need it.”

“You are _so_ petty, it’s not even funny,” Arabella seethes, rushing to keep up with him. Due to her much shorter stature, each step for Klaus is at least two for her, causing her to almost have to jog to keep up. Clearly, he notices, but makes no move to slow down for her. However, he also makes no move to just speed away. “Look, I know you’re still pissed about what I said at the Bayou, but if you’d stop ignoring me like we’re five and just let me _talk_ \--”

“I have more important things to do than hear you speak,” Klaus cuts her off impatiently, not bothering to even pay her a glance. Arabella sighs heavily while struggling to keep up.

“I tried to make it up to you by coming here tonight, full well knowing the risks. I know you didn’t ask me to, but I was hoping it would at least earn me a conversation,” Arabella says, tempted to reach out and grab his arm to stop him. However, knowing Klaus, he’ll just use his strength advantage to pull away, most likely ending with her landing on the ground.

“Well, clearly, this conversation was not as important as freeing Tyler Lockwood from his much deserved imprisonment,” Klaus points out with slight anger in his tone. He stops suddenly and turns towards her. For a moment, Arabella thinks he’s finally going to allow them to converse, until she notices the cruel glint in his ocean blues. “You know, I hear he’s single now. Seeing as you’re always so keen to protect him, perhaps now you can have your chance. You do tend to get around quite easily--”

His words are cut off with a harsh slap to the cheek. Arabella knows it won’t do much, especially to an Original Hybrid, but she’s too pissed to care. Hopefully, a slap to the face can knock some common sense into him-- at least enough to watch his tongue.

Klaus’ face remains turned to the side for a moment, cheek slightly red from the hit. He lets out an annoyed breath, tongue folding over his bottom lip as he processes what she just did. When his eyes shift back to Arabella’s, she expects them to be apologetic, or perhaps slightly irritated.

Not angry.

Arabella doesn’t have enough time to process his hands, gripping her shoulders tightly, before she’s sped off into the nearest alley, pressed against the brick walls. Klaus had been careful not to slam her too roughly as to not hurt her, but he keeps a tight hold on her so she won't run off.

“What did I tell you about laying your hands on me?” His voice comes out low, and dangerous, almost like a warning, and his face remains close to hers. Arabella keeps her set glare, harshly pushing against his chest. Surprisingly enough, Klaus moves back.

“Well, you deserve it when you’re being an asshole,” She snaps back. The older opens his mouth to speak, but both of them quiet at the sight of a middle aged man stopping at the alley entrance. He has a leash in hand with a small white dog at his feet, face furrowed in concern at seeing the fight between the two of them.

“You alright, miss?”

“Why don’t you mind your bloody business?” Klaus growls, stepping away from Arabella and making a move towards the man. She yanks his arm back, unbelieving that he really still has fight left in him after what just went down. Not to mention, they're both covered in blood, and walking out into the lighter parts of the alley won't settle well with this man. 

“I’m fine, and he’s right. Mind your own business,” The man scoffs under his breath at both of their rude manners, but still scurries away. Even oblivious humans can sense the danger that practically melts off Klaus. As soon as he’s gone, Arabella slaps Klaus’ chest in annoyance. “Seriously? Picking fights with humans now? You’ve really sunk that low?”

Klaus rolls his eyes, turning on his heel to walk out. Arabella, not wanting to have to chase after him again, grabs his arm and pulls him back.

“Klaus,” Her tone is softer this time, and it takes everything in Klaus not to drop all the anger and irritation he has towards her. “Can we _please_ talk?”

“Fine, I’ll talk,” He agrees, pulling his arm out of her grasp and jabbing a finger in her face. “I’ll talk about how what you did tonight was incredibly _stupid_ and could have gotten you killed.”

“Oh my God,” She mutters under her breath, rolling her eyes. In a louder voice, Arabella adds, “I was trying to _help_ , and you ended up winning anyways, so who cares?”

“And what if I hadn’t?”

“But you did.”

“And if I hadn’t?”

“Klaus, I don’t see the point--”

“Of course you don’t see the point!” Klaus shouts, throwing his hands up. “I was almost bested in there, I know you saw that. And for a moment… the briefest moment… the eyes of defeat stared me square in the face and I thought I would have to give in to them,” He admits, running a hand hastily through his hair. “And all I could think about was how _you_ were there, standing by Marcel like he wouldn’t murder you in front of me while I rot in that hellish cave.”

Arabella says nothing as he speaks, speechless. Klaus isn’t one to admit when someone almost had the upper hand on him, and the fact that he’s revealing it now, with evident worry…

“I was trying to hel--”

“Your help is going to get you killed,” Klaus’ voice is soft spoken, but there is still a sharp edge in it, as if she doesn’t quite understand his words. “You let your emotions drive your actions tonight-- whether it be the anger you have towards Marcel, the desire to fix this city… or something else entirely,” He reaches forward and pokes Arabella on the forehead. “Next time, use that brain in your pretty little head or you’re going to end up killed.”

She swats his hand away, and this time, when Klaus leaves, makes no move to follow.

His words, along with everything that Tyler, Rebekah, Hayley, and Elijah had said to her… it leaves her thinking.

Is Arabella really allowing her feelings to cloud her judgement? Feelings, not towards a cause, or goal, like they all think.

But feelings towards _him_. 

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So, real quick, if you didn't notice already, I updated a chapter called "Part One" that comes right after the synopsis and before any of the actual chapters. The reason I did this is because I just finished writing Chapter 21, and realized that this story is gonna make a lot more sense if I split it up into parts, since there are different storylines and problems dealt with in future chapters. Instead of trying to make different books, Imma just do different parts. 
> 
> Anywho, just thought I'd let y'all know so you don't get confused as to why there's a new chapter outta nowhere. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!<3<3<3
> 
> -Athena


	12. Chapter 10

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Though they got home around the same time, even after taking different routes, neither Klaus nor Arabella paid each other much attention. Klaus had been sitting in the living room, waiting for his siblings return while twirling a dagger in one hand and a glass of scotch in the other when she walked through the doors.

He had fully expected her to make some sarcastic or teasing comment about his dramatic ways, and was actually a bit disappointed when the younger vampire just continued down the hall without sparing much of a glance. Perhaps he was too harsh. Klaus regrets what he said about Tyler-- that _was_ too harsh, he'll admit. But were there really any lies in his other words?

If anything happened to Arabella... Klaus doesn't know what he'd do with himself. _He_ asked _her_ to come to NOLA. She had no interest in following him anywhere, but he was the one who extended an invitation and pressured her into coming.

It was stupid... so insanely impulsive and reckless of him to ask her here. Selfish, above all things. And Klaus is a selfish person, he knows this. He's _known_ this. And he's quite okay with being selfish.

But now, being selfish means putting someone he's grown to care about in danger. It would be for the best to just send her away, but Klaus can't. He can't bring himself to look her in the eyes and tell Arabella he doesn't want her here.

As for Arabella, she isn't exactly angry with Klaus, just tired. Not the kind of tired that can be cured by a good night's rest, but _tired_. Emotionally and physically drained. Too much so to try and fight with Klaus.

What she wants right now is take a shower, a nap, meditate for a bit, _then_ go speak to the giant ball of stress that is Klaus Mikaelson.

Just as Arabella is stripping off her blood splattered coat and shoes, her phone begins to ring from the dresser where she left it. With a small frown, she walks over and picks it up, a little more than surprised to see Stefan calling her.

"Stefan?" She presses the phone to her ear. "Going through some contacts to refresh your memory?"

" _No,_ " Stefan sighs lightly on the other line. " _I'm back, Ara_."

Her breath catches in her throat at his words, and a small weight lifts off her shoulders. Amidst the _many_ problems in her life, it's good to be free of one.

"Oh, thank God," She breathes, falling back on her bed. "How did you guys manage to break the spell?"

" _Qetsiyah broke it herself, as some form of punishment towards me_ ," Stefan explains. Arabella presses her lips together, full and well knowing that Stefan's worst enemy will always be his own guilt.

"I'm so sorry, Stef," Arabella says quietly, picking at her lips nervously. "I should've gone with you that night. But we had that stupid fight, and--"

" _It's okay_ ," Stefan cuts her off, his voice seeming heavier and more tired than usual. " _I was being an ass._ "

"You were looking out for me," Arabella corrects. "Maybe you were being an ass while doing it, but you were looking out for me."

He lets out a humorous exhale at her words. " _Maybe_ ," Stefan agrees. _"Look... I get it now. Why you're so driven to get revenge on Marcel. Three months isn't three years, but it's enough for me to understand._ "

"You don't have to," Arabella tells him. "I'm starting to think maybe you were right about this being a bad idea."

She wants to keep talking, rant about her problems to Stefan like old times, but someone calling his name on the other line interrupts their conversation.

" _I have to--_ "

"No, no, yeah, go," She cuts in quickly, smiling even though he may not be able to see it. "I'm glad you're back, Stef."

" _Yeah, me too. I'll call you later, kay_?"

"Sure."

After saying a quick goodbye, Arabella hangs up the phone and tiredly pushes her hair back with both hands. One problem down, at least a million others to go.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

The Bayou truly makes you appreciate the small things in life. For example: Hot running water.

After taking a shower much longer than she had intended, dampening her hair with products, and changing into ripped jeans and a tucked blue top, Arabella began to think over what the next moves could be.

For now, Klaus will probably want to speak with his siblings, but what about after? The whole reason she came all the way to Louisiana was to gain freedom for the witch faction. Though they may be a morally challenged little bunch now, she has no doubt that with the right leadership, they can straighten themselves out.

Just as she's thinking about how exactly to bring that up to Klaus, the sound of Rebekah's voice drifts from downstairs. Elijah's own voice follows soon after, and though Arabella _knows_ she probably shouldn't eavesdrop, she can't help but do just that.

Standing in the hall by the staircase, Arabella listens closely as she hears them argue. She half expects to hear the sound of a dagger ripping through skin, followed by either of Elijah or Rebekah's (or perhaps both) body dropping to the floor. However, her heart drops a bit in sympathy by what happens instead.

Klaus' voice is broken and hurt as he speaks with his older and younger sibling, speaking of their acts of betrayal, his fear of his daughter growing up to call Elijah Father. And the mistrust his siblings have in him... granted, it's only to be expected considering how he treats them, but when regarding his own child, Arabella supposes the circumstances are just a tad bit different.

The conversation ends abruptly, Klaus getting in the last word. As he storms up the stairs, just to grab a few things before departing, Arabella considers quickly hiding out of sight, but decides against it. Instead, she leans against the wall and waits for him to come up.

Klaus, not realizing she was in the hall, didn't bother to wipe away the tears that had trickled down his cheeks. Upon seeing Arabella, he quickly runs a hand over his face to clear it, slowing down for the briefest moment before continuing his quick walk back down the hall.

"Nik," She catches his arm as he tries to go past her, sighing softly when the elder doesn't turn to meet her eye. "Where are we going?"

Klaus finally turns around, confusion clouding his green-blues. "You heard the conversation down there. Wouldn't you rather stay with those whose opinions you share?" There's venom laced in his words as he says the last part. Arabella scoffs.

"If you had _let_ me speak earlier, you would know I don't. I made a stupid assumption, but at the end of the day, I didn't come here for Elijah, or Rebekah. I came here for you," She says, quickly and nervously adding, "To take down Marcel. I came here to help you do that."

Klaus considers her words, jaw clenching tightly as he stares down at her. Again, with that hard set face of thought, as he decides to focus his gaze on _her_ , instead of anywhere else. And as per usual, her stomach flutters anxiously.

"We're going to the Abattoir," Klaus finally says, grabbing her hand and pulling her down the hall with him. "We'll take Hayley, and plan as we go along."

Arabella snorts. "You really think Hayley is gonna go by choice?"

"Do you really think she _has_ a choice?"

"Ah yes, force the pregnant werewolf carrying the magic miracle baby to live in that warzone of a house. Great idea," She mutters sarcastically, breaking from his hold. "I'll go tell her."

Speeding down the stairs and outside, without stopping to pay Rebekah or Elijah a glance, Arabella comes to a stop in front of Hayley. She sits on the steps of the mansion, still in the same clothing from the day prior, fiddling with her hands nervously while staring down at her shoes.

"Oh, hey," Hayley smiles tiredly up at Arabella. "I heard yelling. Safe to go inside?"

"Not quite," Arabella shakes her head. "Marcel handed over power to Klaus, so we're going to stay at his old family home in the Quarter."

"Is Elijah coming?"

"You heard the yelling, right?"

Hayley frowns at that, shaking her head. "I am not going anywhere with _Klaus_."

"I'll be there too," Arabella points out, sitting beside the werewolf. At this, Hayley's shoulders seem to relax a bit, but not much. "Tyler told everyone about the pregnancy. Trust me, the safest place for you is with the one person that no one would dare mess with-- that's Klaus."

Hayley sighs heavily, wanting to put up more of a fight, but knowing Arabella is right. Reluctantly, she nods and stands up.

"Arabella?" Hayley looks up, a thoughtful frown etched into her features. "Do you... do you really think he wants this? Being a dad, or whatever?"

Arabella presses her lips together, thinking over the answer. She thinks back to their conversation in the Bayou, to the fight he just had with his siblings... and she nods firmly.

"Yeah. Yeah, I really do."

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

It didn't take long for Klaus to come out from there, or for him to speed out of the driveway, only slowing down the car's speed at the pointed look Arabella sends him from the passenger's seat.

She's not sure if either Klaus or Hayley noticed, but Arabella had caught Elijah sadly staring out of one of the windows as they pulled away, watching them drive off the Plantation grounds. Though the terms they leave in may not be the best, Arabella is glad they've finally left the mansion property. Considering the history, it gave her the creeps.

The Mikaelson home is on the very edges of New Orleans, far off from the bustling city life, so there is about an hour drive to get there. After about ten minutes of driving, Arabella can hear the faint sound of Hayley's stomach growling, but the younger remains silent as she stares out the window in the backseat.

"Hayley?" Arabella turns slightly in her seat, Klaus' eye flickering up to the rearview mirror for a moment. "When was the last time you ate?"

"Um... I don't know. I'm fine, though," Hayley lies with a shrug. Truthfully, she hasn't had a proper meal since almost a night and half ago. She _would_ ask Klaus to stop at a diner, but the hybrid's tight grip on the steering wheel and locked jaw tells her she would be in for an argument.

Arabella clicks her tongue and turns back to Klaus, reaching over and flipping the blinker for him.

"Pull into that McDonald's," He lets out a quiet sigh, but does as told and switches lanes. Hayley sends Arabella a small, grateful smile through the mirror.

She's glad the vampire-witch is here. They've grown closer over the last few months, and it's nice to have someone overlooking her pregnancy. Not to mention, she's helped protect her from Klaus a number of times now. Hayley has spent a good few months with the Mikaelson's and the Salvatore, and it seems Arabella is the only one who can reprimand Klaus without having to suffer any real consequences. It's relieving to have someone like that on her side.

"I don't see why we can't just wait until we get home. May as well be shoveling rubbish into our bodies with food like this," Klaus grumbles as he pulls into the drive thru, a few cars ahead of them. Arabella rolls her eyes, bringing her knee up to her chest as she studies the large menu sign. "What do you two want?"

Once reaching the speaker, Klaus ends up ordering a tea for himself, an black coffee for Arabella, and a cheeseburger meal for Hayley, requesting the last one with a slight face of disgust.

"Make sure to ask for extra ketchup at the window," Hayley adds.

They pay at the first window and pull up to the second, a teenage boy with shaggy brown hair and droopy eyes standing there in his uniform.

"Can we get some extra ketchup--"

"Woah, woah, wait," The worker, his speech slow and dull, cuts him off. "Dude, are you _British_?" Klaus lets out a slow, frustrated sigh, his patience slowly trickling away. "Is your accent, like, legit, or is it fake? Like just for fun?" Arabella laughs quietly to herself, laying a fist over her mouth.

"Does it bloody matter?" Klaus snaps, eyeing the bags of food sitting beside him. The boy seems to get more excited.

"Wait, you're good at that!" He exclaims, leaning out the window and ignoring the bag all together. "Could you say something British?"

"You know, I'm feeling a bit peckish myself," Klaus turns towards Arabella with a raised brow. "How would you feel about having a cashier for lunch?"

"Okay!" Arabella loudly claps her hands, ignoring the look of amusement as Klaus notices the horror on the worker's face.

She leans across him and grabs the bag and drinks from his hands, just about wanting to smack Klaus over the head as he makes no move to help. He's rather enjoying having her leaned against him like this, and it's amusing seeing her struggle to balance the bags and drinks in one hand.

"You're an ass," Arabella grumbles as she gives Hayley her food and shoves the cup of tea into Klaus' free hand. He smirks, mood clearly lifted.

"Well, you're the one who was pressed up against _me_ , love."

"Because you're the one threatening to eat a teenager who is clearly high off his mind," She snaps back, glaring at him.

Klaus simply chuckles and shakes his head, pulling out of the fast food restaurant and back into the roads. As she eats, Hayley places her hands on both seats and leans forward with a small frown.

"So, where exactly are we going?"

"This house in the French Quarter called, The Abattoir," Arabella replies.

"It _was_ called the Abattoir," Klaus quickly corrects, sneering at the road ahead. "It's the Mikaelson Compound, my family home from our time here in New Orleans a century ago. That wretched name is simply something Marcel created for it."

"What does it mean?" Hayley asks as she nibbles on a fry. Arabella exchanges a look with Klaus, sighing lightly.

"Slaughterhouse," Hayley lowers her fry at Arabella's words, slowly slumping back in the seat. Under her breath, she mumbles,

"How fitting."

Once they get back to the compound, Arabella leaves to go set up a room for herself while Hayley and Klaus talk. The interior of the building is... _interesting_. Greeted by a tall iron gate at the entrance, there is a spacious courtyard surrounded by the balconies and open hallways of the floors above. Trees and vines twist up the walls elegantly, and a fountain spills pools of water peacefully in the background. Of course, at the moment, it isn't exactly the epitome of 'homey', considering there are over a dozen burnt vampire corpses lying beneath the open overhead, and Arabella can hear Hayley complaining about it. However, she can see how it was once considered a home.

She takes up a random bedroom, this one being much larger than her one back at the mansion, or even the Boarding House. This room has a iron gated balcony overlooking the Quarter, so after adding some bourbon and blood to her half empty coffee cup, Arabella resides out there. 

New Orleans has its cons, God knows it does. But there are a few little things that make it bearable, that makes it someplace Arabella feels at home. And the constant music drifting from down below just adds to that list.

"It's a pleasant change from Mystic Falls, is it not?" Arabella looks up at the sound of Klaus' voice as he walks onto the balcony. She had been engrossed in the music, and didn't even notice him walk into her bedroom. He takes a seat across from her, eyes drifting to the jazz players down below. 

"Yeah," She breathes, offering him some coffee. Klaus accepts, taking a sip, and immediately, his face screws up in disgust. 

"What the bloody hell is _that_?"

"Oh, right, you've never tried Damon's coffee before, have you?" She realizes, taking the cup back in amusement. "It's coffee with bourbon and blood mixed in."

"Are you sure it was created by Damon and not Satan himself as a form of punishment?" Klaus grimaces, trying to get the taste out of his mouth. Arabella rolls her eyes. 

"Oh, shut up, it's not _that_ bad."

"It most certainly is," He counters, leaning back in the chair. "This is why I'm more of a tea person," Arabella snorts, taking a sip of the drink and ignoring the grossed out look on Klaus' face.

"How's Hayley? Settled her in?"

"The little wolf isn't all too happy with the interior state of the house, but she'll live," Klaus shrugs with slight irritation in his tone. 

"What, did you think the twelve burnt corpses were going to make her feel at home?" Arabella raises a brow in humor. 

"She should get used to it," Klaus frowns, eyes focused on the streets below. "Our child is of Mikaelson blood. Death is hardly going to be a rare occurrence."

"Please tell me you're not going to base your fatherhood responsibilities on that motto," Arabella's brows furrow together. "No kid should be raised around death, no matter the blood in their veins."

He sighs at her words. "I'm thinking realistically, Arabella. My daughter will inherit every enemy I've gained in my thousand years of life."

"I'm just saying," Arabella shrugs, setting her cup down on the table between them. "You can always stop that cycle of death and violence. It's not a birthright."

"For a Mikaelson? It just may be," He refutes softly, drumming his fingers on his leg. Quietly, Klaus adds, "I _want_ to have something better, for her. But I also want her to be safe. I'm not sure those two come hand in hand."

Arabella studies him, silently, as he speaks. There's not really much she can say to comfort him-- Klaus knows his family, and he knows the dangers that lurk in the shadows. However, his words spark a bit of guilt in her heart. 

"You really want this," Her words catch him off guard, the hybrid turning in his seat to look at her. "Being a dad, raising your daughter with the love you never got?" He says nothing, pressing his lips together. Arabella sighs, looking down at her hands. "Look, there's something I gotta tell you, cause if I don't, then I'm just a hypocrite for getting mad at you every time you keep a secret from me."

Klaus' frown deepens, but he nods for her to continue. So she does. 

"A couple weeks ago-- that night Hayley bought the wolfsbane to get rid of the baby-- afterwards, I... I made her an offer," Arabella begins, chewing on her inner cheek nervously. "And I'm not telling you because I regret making the offer. I just feel like you should know--"

"I do know," Klaus cuts in gently. "I know you offered to get rid of fetus through a spell," Arabella gapes at him. 

"How--"

"Love, you forget sometimes that I am an Original," His lips tilt up in amusement. "I can hear rather well, especially when I'm listening. And that night, I was listening."

"You never said anything," Arabella points out the obvious, sitting up and frowning. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"She didn't take the offer," Klaus shrugs. "Perhaps if she had, I would've tried to talk you out of it. But she didn't," Arabella continues to stare at him in shock-- not because he knows, but because he's _calm_. 

"You're not mad?" She shakes her head in confusion.

"I was just as surprised," Klaus shrugs, staring up at the clouds up above as they pushed by a breeze. "But I knew something like that would happen. I invited you here full well knowing the extents of your stubbornness, and your sneaky tactics," Arabella rolls her eyes at his teasing words. "I knew you wouldn't sit idly by if you knew someone was suffering. Truthfully, it's what I appreciate about you."

Arabella slumps back in the chair, a frown still on her lips as she thinks over his words. 

Klaus Mikaelson, for once, _not_ having a temper tantrum? Especially when he actually may be entitled to one? It feels odd, and out of place. 

But it also creates a full feeling in Arabella's heart, knowing that he's changed, if even in the slightest, most subtle ways. 

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•


	13. Chatpter 11

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"Klaus, we need to talk."

Ever since the compound has opened back up to the Mikaelson reign, things have moved rather quickly. Klaus has taken over, Marcel has bowed down, and the factions are left scrambling in confusion and fear as to how _Klaus Mikaelson_ managed to become king. Again.

However, despite all this, Arabella hasn't forgotten the deal they made back in Mystic Falls. _Equal Rulership_. She knew what that meant, always. It meant Klaus would be king, but she would still have control and a say as to what went down. Especially with the witches.

Klaus hasn't exactly made a move against them yet, but Arabella can tell he plans to. And soon. She just needs to jog his memory before he does something that will make her regret coming here in the first place.

It's mid morning as Arabella walks into his bedroom, some boxes of his furniture and art supplies laying in corners. Klaus normally compels others to set up his things, but as for his art supplies, he prefers to do that himself.

He looks up from where he had been setting paint brushes into containers, turning his attention back to them at seeing who it is.

"What about?"

"Our deal," At this, Klaus sets his brushes down and turns, arching a brow at her. Arabella taps her fingers against her leg nervously, pushing down the raising anxiety. "I was promised equal rulership."

"I wasn't aware I did anything to give you any other impression."

"You haven't. Yet," She points out, taking a step forward. "I'm not gonna sit around and wait for you snap at them, Klaus. Let me handle the witches-- that _includes_ Davina Claire. They're not just your little weapons to use at will, do you understand me?" His brows raise at her order. "We agreed that I cover that faction, and you're going to let me."

Klaus studies her for a moment, surprised by this newfound confidence. Now, Arabella is a confident person, and she knows her worth, which he admires. But asserting her power to _him_... that's a fairly new one. At least, since they've arrived here in NOLA.

Arabella doesn't expect Klaus to speed up right in front of her, so when he does so, she's a little caught off guard, to say the least. However, instead of stepping back from his _extremely_ close proximity, she stands her ground and stares him squarely in the eyes... _only_ the eyes. She won't let her gaze drift down and grant him that amusement. 

"You're getting bolder," He observes, a hand snaking up to tuck her curls behind her ear. A small smile quirks on his lips at the goosebumps that appear on her neck at his lingering touch, her heartbeat only quickening as he leans down. Arabella holds her breath and looks up at the ceiling as Klaus' lips come up right beside her ear, his warm breath tickling her neck.

She should push him away. Side step him, shove him, take a step back... _something_. But instead, she stands there dumbly, frozen in anticipation for his next words.

"Fine."

Arabella does a double take as Klaus steps back, struggling to concede the amused grin that threatens to stretch across his lips.

" _Fine_?" She repeats, struggling to control her breathing. "That's it? Just like that?"

"I made you a promise, I tend to stick to my word," Klaus says, walking over to his bar tray and pouring a drink.

"No you don't," Arabella snorts in disbelief. Klaus shrugs with a small chuckle, turning his glass.

"Well, there's a first for everything."

"You are _so_ dramatic," She huffs, face contorted in irritation. "Was the buildup really necessary?"

"No, but I do enjoy seeing you get flustered," He replies with ease, smirk only widening at the faint blush that spreads across her cheeks and nose. Due to a darker skin tone, Arabella (thankfully) can normally hide a blush with ease, but in this particular moment, it's quite evident he's caught her off guard.

"I-I don't get _flustered_ ," She defends, wanting to just about scream into a pillow for that stutter. Klaus's dimples press into his cheeks as he grins widely, opening his mouth to say more. "Shut up."

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Marcel unconsciously taps his fingers against the metal banisters as he looks down at the courtyard below with a small frown. Klaus has control, and he has a plan. Is said plan going to work? Only time will tell. For now, though, he'll take a page out of his mentor's book and play loyal ally. At least until the time is right.

But, like all problems, there are blocks in the path. And one particular block seems to pop up everywhere and anywhere. Including here and now.

He distastefully looks to his side as Arabella walks down the hall, her own eyes narrowed at Marcel. Ever since Klaus took back the Quarter, the two of them have stayed out of each other's paths. Marcel is now Klaus' right hand (though not exactly by choice), and Arabella, apparently, is in control of the witch faction. Considering neither party gets along with the other, they've avoided each other.

Marcel expects that she'll continue avoiding him, and sighs heavily when she comes to a stop beside him instead.

"Try not to sound so disappointed," Arabella snorts, leaning her elbows on the banister and clasping her hands together. Marcel rolls his eyes.

"What do you want? Here to gloat?"

"I think Klaus has that part covered," She smirks bitterly.

"I bet this pisses you off, huh?" Marcel taunts with a small smile, turning towards her. "You probably wanted to kill me, and instead, I'm here, right by Klaus' side. Just like you."

Arabella shrugs, jaw clenching. "I'd be lying if I said it didn't bother me a little," She turns towards him fully, leaning one hand on the banister. "But we have to face the facts: neither of us is going anywhere anytime soon. So we can either continue to be at each other's throats, _or_ , we can agree to at least _try_ to be civil. For New Orlean's sake," A hand extends towards him as well.

The older vampire stares down at her hand with a small frown, not too happy about the idea of making peace with Arabella. However, what choice does he have, really?

As soon as Marcel's hand clasps around Arabella's, however, she yanks him closer with a dark expression in her pale eyes, whispering, "But this doesn't mean I trust you. For all I know, you could be doing the same thing Klaus and I did-- playing loyal until you make a move," Her eyes begin to glow as she uses some magic to slowly increase a migraine in Marcel's head. He grunts slightly as her grip on his hand tightens as well. "So I'll play nice, for now. But the second I suspect _any_ move of betrayal... well, let's just say I have a cozy little spot in The Garden with your name on it."

Arabella releases her magic fueled grip on Marcel, who quickly yanks his hand from her grasp and stumbles back. She offers up a mock sweet smile, brushing past him and continuing down the hall.

Arabella Salvatore is going to be a rather big block in his path, at this rate.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Apparently, when living under the same roof as three Original vampires, their vampire protégé and a pregnant werewolf, eating in peace is officially non-existent.

A proper, normal meal has become rare for Arabella, so she's shifted to mostly living off of blood, coffee, and alcohol. Separate, or together, whatever the situation calls for.

Currently, Arabella sucks through a blood bag, sitting in Klaus' study with a knee propped up as she studies some files from the mayor's office. Files concerning the peculiar nightlife here in New Orleans. After Marcel and Klaus had decided to stupidly kill the mayor, along with every other member that was in charge of the human faction (save for Father Kieren O'Connell), these files were free to grab, so she did. A little insight into just how much the humans here know could be insightful.

And they know _a lot_. A bit too much for comfort, in full honesty.

Her phone pings with a text, and she ignores it, continuing to drink her blood. But it pings again, and again, and again. Huffing, Arabella throws down her bag and snatches it, rolling her eyes at the sender.

_Nikki: Come to the living room, we have a problem_

_Nikki: Arabella_

_Nikki: Answer your bloody phone_

_Nikki: ????_

Ignoring his texts for the mere amusement of it, Arabella stands up, sliding the files into a folder and dumping them into a drawer, tossing the blood bag in the trash. She'll come back to them later.

Marcel, Klaus, and Elijah all gather around in the living room, each seeming an equal amount of stressed. Some put on a better show at hiding it then others, but it's rather clear this problem at hand isn't being taken lightly.

"Well isn't this awfully 'Super Secret Club-ish'," Arabella snorts, walking in and plopping down at the couch beside where Klaus stands.

"Our little weapon seems to be on the run," He cuts right to the chase, ignoring her comment.

"Who?"

"He's talking about Davina," Marcel explains, glaring at Klaus. "She ran away last night, and we can't find her. Poor kid is probably scared out of her damn mind..."

"Yes, I'm sure she's practically trembling in fear at this moment. Not like she isn't one of the most powerful witches in the Quarter, planning an attack on this family as we speak," Klaus sarcastically retorts with an eye roll. Arabella jumps up, glaring at him as well.

"How many times do I have to tell you? The witches are not some weapon you can wield to your advantage. That _includes_ Davina," She snaps.

"Well, that's why you're here, love," Klaus holds a hand out. "Davina could very well be an enemy to this family, and we all know how I handle my enemies--"

Marcel and Elijah speak up at the same time.

"If you lay a _hand_ on Davina, Klaus, I swear to God--"

"Niklaus, she is a _child_ for heaven's sake--"

"You didn't let me finish," Klaus cuts them off, turning back to Arabella. "I told you that witch business is your territory, and Davina is a witch. So, Arabella, how do you suggest we handle this current predicament?"

All eyes turn to Arabella, which she is made very well aware of, and it just makes her all the more nervous. She can handle big decisions, but it seems everyone in this room has a different opinion. So, who is she to please?

Arabella quickly pushes the thought out of her head. _Logic over feelings_. She hasn't exactly put that to use lately, so it's time to reclaim her morals. What better time to do so then when looking for an overpowered, angsty teenage witch?

"Does she have any friends, or family she cares about? Preferably human?" Arabella turns to Marcel, who seems to just get angrier by this suggestion.

"You want to _threaten_ her? How the hell is that supposed to help?"

"I want to _lure her in_ ," Arabella corrects with a hard set frown. She glances at the hybrid for a moment, cracking her knuckles anxiously with one hand. "Klaus is right, she has the capability to be dangerous, and a problem."

"Davina is _not_ an enemy--"

"Maybe not yet," Arabella cuts him off. "We just need go get her here to reprimand her. _No one_ will hurt Davina, okay?"

"You and I have very different definitions of _reprimand_ , sweetheart," Klaus mutters under his breath.

"We have to proceed with caution. Davina is stronger than me, stronger than you, and probably stronger than you two as well," She explains, pointing at Marcel, then the two brothers. "She has all that magic from the Harvest Ritual, which never got completed. Not to mention, she's running on Ancestral Magic, and as someone who used to use that kind of magic, I can tell you with complete confidence that as long as the Ancestors are on your side, the tap is infinite. All that power is running through the veins of a scared and angry sixteen year old girl, so we need to find her before someone gets hurt."

She lets out a sharp exhale after that, standing back and waiting for someone to say something, The three men exchange glances amongst each other, before Klaus lays a hand on her shoulder and nods.

"Fine. I'll handle the hostage situation."

"Wait, what are you going to--" Arabella sighs heavily as Klaus speeds out of the room, without so much as an explanation offered. She turns back to Marcel and Elijah, who stare each other down. "Can you two stop giving each other the stink eye like you're five?"

"He started it," Marcel defends himself quickly, clearing his throat as he realizes how child-like that statement sounds. Elijah shrugs nonchalantly.

"I have no idea what you mean. This is simply my resting face."

With a small scoff, Arabella turns on her heels and leaves, grumbling under her breath, "Children. Literal children."

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•


	14. Chapter 12

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Today is the Casket Girls Festival. An annual celebration to honor the women who fight against the oppression of selfish men. And though the festivities are honorable, the whole thing will just make it that much more complicated to find Davina.

Arabella considers this as she walks down the steps in the Compound, about to leave to go find Klaus and figure out what he's planning. However, Rebekah stops her before she can reach the exit.

"We need to talk," The blonde presses her lips together tightly.

"You're not still pissed at me for siding with your brother?"

"Please. I am far too mature to hold grudges," Rebekah waves her off with an eye roll. Arabella scoffs, crossing her arms.

"Hey, Bek, remember that time you compelled me, my brother, his ex and our friends to sit around a table and exchange gossip about our love lives?"

"That was forever ago. Besides, I was forced to attend high school, so I played the role," Rebekah shrugs, grabbing her arm and pulling the younger into a corner. "This is important. It's about Davina."

"Yeah, I know she ran away," Arabella nods, sighing. "I was just trying to come up with a logical plan upstairs, but as you'd expect, your brothers and your boyfriend aren't exactly the most negotiable bunch."

"Marcel made his alliances clear, he is nothing to me," Rebekah sneers. "Davina left because Hayley told her Agnes is dead, and she realized Marcel has been using her. This isn't an act of violence, the girl feels betrayed and hurt, and by this rate, Klaus will kill her just for attempting to break off from his 'kingdom'."

"I'm not letting a sixteen year old kid get killed," Arabella hisses. Rebekah nods firmly.

"Which is why I'm coming to you. That little Boys Club those three imbeciles have formed runs on violence and impulsive decisions. Us girls know how to handle it properly, so I advise we do just that."

"How?"

"You leave that up to me, Bella," Rebekah smirks, and for a moment, Arabella can almost see a flash of Klaus on her face. A softer, less violent rendition of him, but Klaus nonetheless. "Long as you promise not to rat me out to my brothers."

"I have had it up to _here_ with your brothers," Arabella holds a hand above her head. "I'm down for anything at this point, especially if it involves not hurting anyone. What's the plan?"

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

The plan, like all plans created by Mikaelson's, doesn't exactly sit well with Arabella. Mainly because it involves _her_ having to sit in The Garden and wait for Rebekah to bring Davina. Apparently, it's some grand idea to show her who can and cannot be trusted.

Which, in Arabella's opinion, should _not_ involve her. Davina won't exactly be all too thrilled to see someone working with Klaus trying to 'help' her. But Arabella will do just about anything to get her under control, at this point. With all that magic brewing inside of her, it's only a matter of time before she bursts.

However, at least this plan isn't vague and secretive, like most of Klaus' are.

Just as she's beginning to consider waiting upstairs, Arabella's phone begins to buzz. An unknown caller comes through, and seeing as she has nothing better to do, she presses the green answer button.

"Hello?"

" _Okay, good. Wasn't too sure you'd pick up._ "

"Marcel?" Her face scrunches up in disgust. "Goodbye."

" _Wait, wait!_ " He exclaims, stopping her from slamming the phone down. " _I need your help._ "

"And why the hell should I help you?"

" _Because you'd also be helping Davina_ ," Marcel hastily explains. " _Elijah and I think Klaus is planning a failsafe in case Davina doesn't agree to his terms, you know how he is. I need you to perform a protection spell on her,_ " He's silent for a moment, his voice heavy. " _Please, Arabella. That girl is like family to me. If anything happened to her..._ "

Arabella chews on her bottom lip, a bit stricken by his words. The Marcel she knew back in the 70's was cold and ruthless. He only cared for those who were loyal to him, and the second _anyone_ broke his rules, they were nothing. It seems times truly have changed.

After agreeing to do the spell and hanging up, Arabella gets to work. The magic itself is quite simple-- a bit draining, but simple, nonetheless. She finishes just in time to hear Davina and Rebekah enter the underground tunnels, followed by what sounds like Josh, and a new voice. _Human_.

As soon as the four of them get down, Josh immediately tenses up as his eyes zero in on Arabella, lingering back as Davina and Rebekah continue forward. The human, a young teenage boy, Tim, seems to be paling by the second as he takes in the desiccated vamps.

"You think my brother Nik is awful? Marcel learned from the best. This is how he treats his so-called friends who betray him. Most of what these poor souls did is no worse than what Josh did. Take Thierry, for example. He was Marcel's most trusted friend. Klaus tricked him into breaking one of Marcel's rules. Marcel knows this, and yet he keeps Thierry locked in here day after day, suffering," Rebekah lectures, and Arabella doesn't fail to notice the pain that clouds Davina's face.

"And who are you?" Davina turns around with glassy eyes, frowning at Arabella.

"She's the magic vampire chick I was telling you about," Josh pipes from the corner, shuffling deeper into the shadows at the dull look Arabella sends his way. He hasn't exactly forgotten what happened last time he pissed her off.

"You're Klaus' friend," Davina accuses, glaring at her.

"On occasion. Not right now," Arabella corrects, stepping forward. "I was once a friend of Marcel as well, until he started slaughtering my friends-- witches, like me and you. This was before any Harvest Ritual or broken morals. And my punishment for trying to save people I cared about?" She pats one of the brick walls, a vampire laying inside. "Three years in one of these, until I escaped."

"Why are you telling me this?" The young witch's voice is shaky as tears gather in her eyes.

"Because you need to know you are dealing with," Rebekah replies firmly. "Who you can trust."

Davina allows her words to sink in, glancing around the surrounding brick walls, vampires, and candles anxiously. Tim quickly offers up a bottle of water to calm her down.

"We're all tired of being lied to, Davina," Arabella says, swiping a curl from her face. "Maybe it's about time someone did something about that."

"And we can. Together," Rebekah adds, offering up a small, comforting smile. Before Davina can agree, or say anything for that matter, Tim falls to his knees, catching everyone's attention. He doubles over on the ground and breaks off into a coughing fit, his muscles giving out on him as he falls. Davina rushes to his side, confusion taking over at the guilt ridden look in his eyes.

"It was Klaus. He made me do it," He coughs weakly. "I didn't even know what I was doing--" He breaks off, eyes drifting to the bottle.

"Made her what?" Rebekah snaps.

"The water," Arabella realizes in horror, grabbing the Original's arm. "Klaus poisoned the water."

Davina follows in Tim's footsteps a moment later, falling to the floor while groaning in pain. Josh finally steps out from the shadows, rushing forward to his friends side in worry.

"Vampire blood isn't working!" Josh exclaims frantically, pressing his wrist to both their lips. Both teens still wither and groan in pain on the floor, the blood seeming to have no effect on the poison. Rebekah watches the whole scene unfold with terrified eyes, slapping Arabella on the arm.

"Well, bloody do something! Work you magic juju--"

"I already did," Arabella cuts in somberly, her eyes fixed on Tim's dying body. "Marcel called me earlier saying he had a feeling Klaus would pull something, so I put a protection spell on Davina."

Josh's head snaps up, his brows furrowed together fearfully. "But Tim--"

"-- Is as good as dead," Arabella finishes, not being able to take her eyes off him. This child, who would die now... for what? This is her fault. If she had never suggested using someone as leverage against Davina in the first place, this wouldn't have happened. If _Klaus_ , for once in his long, horrible life, had decided _not_ to resort to petty acts of violence, two teenagers would not be dying in front of her right now.

"I know that look," Rebekah whispers in disappointment, stepping in front of Arabella to block her view. "It's the same look that has crossed the faces of both Elijah and I for centuries. More of a realization, if I'm being honest."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's the realization that no matter what he does, you'll love him despite it," Rebekah tells her bluntly. The younger vampire scoffs in surprise.

"I don't love your brother--"

"I don't have time to talk about your true feelings for Nik, Bella," Rebekah cuts her off. "But I _know_ that look. That feeling. And I would give you advice to run for the hills, but you would never take it, would you?" She turns around, nodding to the scene before them. "He'll kill anyone who gets in his way. Even children. Do you understand now why everyone is advising you to run, Arabella? To pick _any_ other side, as long as it is not his?"

"I'm not doing this with you right now," Arabella shoves past her. "We're not exchanging love tips while two sixteen year old's die at our feet."

"It's them today, you tomorrow," Rebekah earnestly explains.

The youngest Original has grown rather fond of Arabella, and has seen what happens to the women who love her brother. Who love _any_ of them.

But she somehow expects that this particular bond is like no other. Arabella will not run for the hills, and Klaus will not somehow push her away.

A match made in hell, indeed.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Eventually, Davina awoke, devastated and heartbroken as she came to the realization that Tim was gone. It didn't take long for her to pass out in exhaustion over his dead body, which Arabella had Josh get rid of. After instructing him on how to make it look like an 'accident' for the police and his family, she followed Rebekah back to the compound.

As soon as they got back, Marcel took Davina to her room, Elijah following to make sure she was alright. It leaves Arabella, Rebekah, and Klaus in the courtyard, however, Rebekah quickly turns on her heel and goes, after sending a nasty expression her brother's way. Klaus, his arms crossed, watches her storm away, eyes drifting over to where Arabella stands.

She considers saying something, or yelling at him, but just can't muster up the energy to do. Instead, she shakes her head and turns around to go to her own room.

"What happened to talking things out?"

"I'm not your damn wife, Klaus, we don't have to talk every little thing out," Arabella snaps. Klaus lets out a sharp, irritated breath.

"It had to be done."

"Did it?" Arabella whips on her heel, storming back up to Klaus with some newfound energy and stopping in front of him. "You're gonna be a parent soon, Klaus. And guess what? Tonight, _Tim's_ parents are going to get a call saying that their sixteen year old son is dead. They're going to have to bury their _child_ , because of _you_ ," She pushes her hair back with both hands and momentarily closes her eyes, containing herself. "I don't expect you to change overnight. But I expect you to at least _try_. Otherwise, soon enough, _everyone_ is going to leave. Your siblings, Marcel, Hayley...me... "

"Arabella--"

"You can either be this cold, heartless king that has all the power in the world," She interrupts, taking a step back. "Or, you can be someone worth sticking around for. But you can't be both."

She leaves after that, not wanting to stay and hear what else he has to say. Klaus stands there, alone in the courtyard, allowing her words to sink in.

The choice is his, and there's only one question left to ask.

Which does he want more: Power, or love?

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•


	15. Chapter 13

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

_Arabella bolted through the damp, dark forest as quickly as her legs could take her, the surrounding trees and shrubbery zooming past her vision. The adrenaline that ran through her veins drowned out the shock and pain that she should have been feeling, but none of it mattered right then._

_She just needed to find_ her _._

_The cottage came into view a moment later, hidden well by the tall trees, and blended into the forest with the vines that ran up the wood. It would almost look abandoned, to the naked eye. But Arabella knew better._

_She came to a running stop, panting heavily as sweat trickled down her temple. Her curls were laid in frazzled, tangled messes, and her dress was torn and covered in blood._ She _was covered in blood. The blood of a Fells boy, one that had tried to kill her first. Her first ever human kill, and she hadn’t felt an ounce of remorse._

_How could she, upon finding out that_ his _family had murdered hers? The memories flashed through her mind, memories of Mother, Nicolette, and Felicity. How horrible they could be at times, but at the moment, she would do anything to bask in their horribleness once again. To hear their teases, her mother’s scolding._

_And poor Maddy. She hadn’t deserved any of this. She was good, and kind. All four of them, snatched from their homes and slaughtered for accusations that weren’t even true. Magic may have ran in their veins, but it was all untapped. The true witches they have yet to catch._

_Well, in Arabella’s case. As for Odette Bedaux… who’s to say they haven’t already gotten to her?_

_Arabella wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball and sob. If Grand-mere was gone as well… that would mean that Arabella would be completely and utterly alone. Stefan and Damon had been killed earlier that year, her two closest friends, like brothers. She had hardly been able to get through that, and now her family was gone as well. The last living member, her beloved grandmother…_

_She refused to think like that. Arabella didn’t have the luxury of being able to grieve right then. Perhaps in a few days, or week, when all the mess with the Founder’s Council had blown over and she was safely out of Virginia. But for now, she had to find her grandmother._

_Arabella ran up to the house, bunching the skirt of her dress above her knees with bloodied hands, and gently pushed open the door. It stood slightly ajar, her heart racing at an unhealthy rate as she walked into the home._

_And just like that, the last shred of hope she had was crushed into a million pieces._

_A sob ripped through Arabella’s throat as she quickly placed a hand over her mouth, sinking to her knees in defeat. The overturned furniture, droplets of blood… the clearest signs of struggle, everywhere. They had taken her. The Founder’s Council had taken Odette as well. The young girl could no longer feel her connection with magic either, meaning her grandmother’s predictions had been right._

_For months, Odette was on edge about the Bennett’s selling them out, to sever their connection with magic. A spell, to destroy the Bedaux Ancestral Plane, and get rid of their line once and for all. And they had done it. Arabella could no longer feel the magic in her blood, no longer feel that connection with nature. It was gone. Everything was gone. Her mother, her sisters, her best friends, her grandmother… and now her magic. The last piece of her was ripped away, and she was left with nothing._

_It took every ounce of energy Arabella had to pull herself off the floor. She had nothing else she wanted to live for, no reason to continue fighting, but Grand-mere would be furious if she knew her granddaughter was giving up so easily._

_So, Arabella snatched a cloth bag from off the floor and began stuffing some of her grandmother’s spells and potions that the founder’s had yet to take. She needed to be quick with it, for they could come back any minute. There were search teams looking for her, and surely when they found the dead Fells boy, those teams would double._

_Arabella sped through the house quickly, grabbing a few essentials, however, she came to a stop as she noticed something sitting on the counter. There was a basket, with a cloth placed over it, but it seemed as if magic wafted off it._

_She approached it cautiously, quickly swiping the cloth off and peeking inside. A small gasp escaped her lips. Her grandmother’s grimoire, along with a messily and quickly written letter, laid at the bottom. But what really caught her attention was the necklace atop all that._

_The Sorcerer’s Talisman. Odette had told Arabella much about Talisman, and what it was like being the Sorceress. She also explained that in order for the Host to pass it down, a spell needed to be performed. A spell that did not require the new Host’s presence, but rather their blood. Arabella knew that one day, as her grandmother's only living relative that was a witch, she would inherit the responsibility. She never expected to inherit it so soon, however._

_Ignoring both the letter and the grimoire, Arabella reached down and wrapped a hand around the amulet, sucking in a sharp breath. The touch felt electric, like pins and needles in her hands. Ignoring the feeling, she shakily brought the silver chain to her neck, clasping it._

_As soon as the clasp was closed, and the Talisman hit her chest, a surge of painful energy rammed into Arabella. She let out a pained scream, falling to her knees as her head shot up to the ceiling, glowing the same bright purple as the necklace._

_Whispers louder than anything she’d ever heard filled her ears, and a pounding erupted in her head as the spell began to complete._

_The Talisman had found a new Host._

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

It’s late at night in the Mikaelson Compound, most residents asleep in their beds. Most not including Klaus.

He doesn’t sleep very often, in all honesty. Sleeping means being vulnerable, being unconscious and trusting your senses to awaken you at the slightest sign of trouble. Klaus trusts his senses, but still feels more comfortable roaming the halls for most hours of the night, or painting. Tonight, he’s chosen to paint, said painting being fairly simple and rather abstract. Harsh strokes on the canvas with a multitude of colors, whatever impulse he feels he puts into the artwork.

Klaus started to feel a bit peckish, but there were no humans in the compound at this hour, so he settled for a blood bag stored in the basement. As he comes back up, his ears perk at the sounds whimpers and frightened gasps. Frowning, he listens more closely, detecting the voice as feminine. Not Hayley’s…

_Arabella._

In an instant he’s at her door, clutching the bag tightly as he contemplates whether to walk in or not. Last time he heard her crying in her sleep was when he had bit her and she was dying, and to say that encounter hadn’t exactly gone well would be an understatement. However, this sounds far more like a nightmare.

“Arabella?” Klaus taps his knuckles against her door gently. “Are you alright in there?” His question is met with no answer, and the cries seem to only increase, as does his concern. “I’m coming in.”

He slowly creaks the door open, peeking his head in and letting out a small sigh at the sight before him. Arabella lays tangled up in her sheets, a sheen of sweat glistening on her forehead as she twists and turns. Tears trail down her cheeks, fists balling up the covers as she remains trapped in her own nightmare.

“It’s only a dream, love, wake up,” Klaus sets the bag down and quickly comes to stand at her side, shaking her shoulder slightly. “Arabella,” He shakes a little harder, and that seems to do it. Well, sort of.

Arabella’s eyes fly open, but instead of being met with their usual comforting green, he’s met with a striking purple. Her face returns to a calm state as she speeds up to her knees, a hand ripping through his shirt and flesh, sinking into his chest and wrapping around his heart. Whatever trance she seems to be under is deep.

“Arabella!” Klaus rasps, wrapping a hand around her wrist to keep it from moving. Ripping out his heart won’t result in death, but it will result in quite a bit of pain and a lengthy recovery. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

She says nothing, her eyes glazed over and staring straight ahead with the effects of the Talisman. Her grip doesn’t tighten, or loosen, like she’s frozen in some hypnotic state.

“Arabella!” Klaus shouts, grabbing her chin with his spare hand and forcing her to meet his eyes. For a moment, she just stares at him, and he begins to think he’ll need to snap her neck.

However, after a few seconds, the purple begins to fade, and Arabella blinks a few times. She looks down at her legs for a moment, slowly looking up to meet Klaus’ stare, before her eyes land on her hand buried in his chest.

“Oh my God!” She squeaks, quickly sliding her hand out. Klaus lets out a sigh of relief and steadies himself against the wall with one hand, Arabella falling back on her bed. Her clean hand reaches up to her hair and tugs at it anxiously. “Oh God… I-I didn’t even realize, I--”

“It’s alright,” Klaus breathes, sitting on her bed and wrapping his hands around her wrists. Tears still stream down Arabella’s cheeks as she recounts her nightmare, and the terrors that follow.

“I-I didn’t… I wasn’t t-trying to…” She tails off, the regret and guilt evident in her eyes. Klaus presses his lips together tightly, letting go of one of her wrists and using that hand to pull her into a hug.

Arabella freezes for a moment, her body pressed into Klaus’ chest as he wraps both arms protectively around her. Slowly, she allows herself to melt into his hold, a warm and comforting alternative from the prior nightmares. Her shaky breathing begins to calm as she lays her head against his hard chest, the smell of paints making her feel safer than she ever could be. Klaus sets his chin atop her head, his thumb stroking soothingly against her clothed skin. 

As soon as she’s able to think clearly again, Arabella gently pushes Klaus away, coming to terms with their close proximity. He’s reluctant to do so, but still allows her to shuffle away and stand up, watching her closely as she does so.

“Sorry, if I woke you up,” She apologizes quietly, going to stand in front of her dresser and clean her hand with some tissues. Klaus shakes his head.

“I was already awake. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Arabella nods quickly, exhaling on her cold hands to warm them up. She fails to notice Klaus coming up behind her until he gently grabs her hands, wrapping his own around them. Her smaller hands disappear in his larger one's, encased warmly in them. She looks up, swallowing down the flutter she feels as his ocean eyes bore into hers. “I’m fine, Klaus.”

He doesn’t believe her, and it’s quite clear. How could he, when she was just crying in fear a moment ago?

“Are _you_ okay?”

“Not the first time a woman has attempted to rip my heart out. Literally,” Klaus smiles softly, looking down at his bloodied shirt and healed chest. Arabella forces a smile, but he can see the guilt in her eyes. “Come with me.”

He tugs her with him, grabbing the blood bag on their way out the door. The rest of the house is still silent, as it seems she hadn’t stirred too many sleeping individuals with that scene.

Klaus leads her back to his bedroom, pulling out a stool for Arabella to sit on by his painting supplies. He hands one her of his sweaters as well, as she’s only dressed in shorts and a t-shirt and must be freezing, along with the blood bag. As she pulls the sweater over her head, he momentarily leaves to change his own bloody shirt.

It feels odd to Arabella, the way he’s treating her like she’s a child. She doesn’t like being taken care of-- the feeling is foreign. An emotionally distant mother, bullies for sisters, and grandmother who taught her to be independent didn’t leave much room for babying.

At the same time, however, she isn’t opposed to it. The feeling is weird, but not all bad. Klaus has a way of making Arabella feel safe, and makes her problems melt away with just a touch. Perhaps not how she should feel around the Original Hybrid, but right now she’s too tired to try and push it away. This time, and maybe just this time, she won’t push away his comfort.

The sweater is large on Arabella, so much so that her hands disappear beneath the sleeves. She can also bring her knees up to her chest beneath it, becoming one bundle of knitted material. Klaus hides his smile at her appearance as he returns. Arabella is always the picture of confidence and power, as she likes to be. Seeing her as anything else is an adorable and pleasantly different sight.

Klaus begins to paint again, and Arabella watches him curiously. She’s seen him paint a few times while here in New Orleans, though never sat to watch, as there wasn’t much time. But watching his face settle in concentration as he thoughtfully moved the brush about the canvas brings a calm to her own heart. It’s relaxing.

“Thank you,” Arabella speaks up after a few silent minutes, her voice quiet and small. A rather different tone than her usual teasing's and snarky comments. “And sorry, for, you know…”

“You apologize too much.”

“Some could say you don’t apologize enough,” She jokingly retorts, catching the small quirk on his lips at that.

“I believe I’ve apologized to you for most of my indiscretions,” Klaus points out, dipping his brush into a vibrant blue.

“Mostly, yeah,” She shrugs it off, remembering the earlier events of this night. Davina, Tim, Marcel… she doesn’t want to think about it. “Do you ever think how insane these past two years have been? I mean, two years ago, you were trying to break a curse and compelled my brother to follow you around the country. I never thought all this would be the result of that.”

She’s just talking now, trying to get her mind off of the nightmares. Klaus decides to play along.

“Yes,” He admits, cleaning off the brush. “At the time, if you asked me what I would be doing two years in the future, my answer would be simple. Traveling about with my army of hybrids with The Ripper of Monterey as my right hand,” Arabella snorts. “Of course, I didn’t quite take into account how persistent you and your brother would be.”

“It was mostly Damon,” Arabella points out, leaning her chin on knees as a new thoughts dawns her. “You know, I never understood why you gave Damon your blood that day,” When met with a confused glance, she quickly adds, “Not that I’m not _glad_ , but… it just didn’t make sense.”

“And what would you have done had you been in my shoes?”

“Oh, wow, I don’t know,” Arabella sucks on her teeth, shaking her head dramatically. “I mean, I’m probably going to need some time to get into character. Spend _at least_ a month living in constant paranoia and mistrust--”

“Just humor the question,” Klaus gently shoves her knee. Arabella laughs, swatting his hand away.

“Okay, well, if I was in the mind of the _legendary_ Klaus Mikaelson,” He rolls his eyes at her sarcastic comment. Clearly, she’s starting to feel herself again. However, her face turns serious as she thinks of a legitimate answer. “I would’ve compelled Stefan to do my bidding, and let Damon die so he didn’t become a future problem. _Then_ , I would’ve lived in constant fear of a badass vampire-witch coming for my head,” He chuckles lightly at the last part, considering her response thoughtfully.

“I could’ve, yes,” He agrees, tapping his fingers against the brush as he inspects the painting. “But it was all your siblings' loyalty towards each other… Perhaps I was a bit envious of it. I had done a splendid job at pushing away my own family over the centuries, and I suppose a part of me didn’t want to inflict that same pain upon another family. That kind of unconditional love is rare, something I haven’t exactly allowed myself to ever experience.”

“Never?” Arabella raises a brow slightly. Klaus sets his brush down, turning towards her.

“Elijah thinks this child will be some sort of opportunity for me to have that,” He scoffs at the thought, as if it is unbelievable. “I had my chance at fatherhood; with Marcel. And you see how he despises me.”

Like all things, it has to be earned,” She tilts her head thoughtfully. “There’s still time to rewrite history.”

“I’m not so sure,” Klaus frowns to himself. “I’ve had enough experience with my own mother and father. Monsters are simply not meant to be parents.”

“You’re not a monster,” Arabella says quickly, catching him off guard. She considers backing down as his surprised eyes meet her own, but decides to continue. “To me, you didn’t do the things you did because you were some irredeemable beast…” She hesitates to say the next part. “ … you did them because you’re broken. And everything broken can be fixed.”

To say he’s taken aback by her words is an understatement. After everything he’s done to Arabella, and she still sees him as redeemable. It confuses him, yet pulls him in, all at the same time. How could one person have this kind of effect on him?

How could one person _see_ him like this?

Arabella quickly straightens herself up, feeling a bit too vulnerable and open right now for comfort. Being around Klaus and speaking openly with him was nice, but reality has to clock in eventually. She can’t become close with him like this… she just _can’t_.

“I should get back to bed,” Arabella mumbles, playing with the sleeves of his sweater. She turns to leave quickly, but Klaus’ voice stops her.

“Arabella,” She stops and turns around with a small frown. “What happened earlier tonight… that wasn’t a normal nightmare, I gather?”

“No,” She confirms, sighing and chewing on her lip. “It was a message from the Talisman. They come in all shapes in sizes,” Arabella laughs humorlessly. “A reminder, to jog my memory of my moral code.”

“Which is?”

“Logic over feelings,” She replies, looking up. “Seems like it’s slipping from my mind. So the Talisman gave me a memory of the exact moment I decided to put it in place. I guess I've been putting my emotions first too many times lately.”

Klaus steps forward, his brows furrowed together as he begins to put the pieces together. “How so?”

For a moment, a small, tiny moment… Arabella wants to be honest with him. Tell him everything, and allow herself to be vulnerable, for just one more time tonight.

But she doesn’t. Instead, she takes a step back, shaking her head.

“I should really get back to bed.”

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•


	16. Chapter 14

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Arabella is in a rather giddy mood this morning, a bright turn from the glum week.

After the whole business with Davina, just as she had predicted, the Harvest magic inside her began to manifest itself in dangerous ways. City crumbling, world ending ways. The ritual was forced to be completed, however, not one of the Harvest girls came back. It was a somber and sad night, hearing the news that Davina was dead for nothing.

And as for Arabella, she’s been trying to figure out _why_. Where all that magic could have possibly gone. Everyone in the Compound has been trying to find answers, and it leaves for a fairly stressed environment.

However, this morning, her phone rang with a call from Damon who had some _amazing_ news to share.

“Guess what?” Arabella strides into Klaus’ study, where he sits at a desk inspecting some files. She comes to his side and leans her back against the table, using both hands to steady herself and waiting for him to guess.

“I suppose you’ll tell me anyway?” Klaus hums, eyes fixated on the files as a hand nonchalantly runs around the rim of a glass filled with blood.

“ _Katherine Pierce_ is dying,” At this, Klaus slowly looks up, a small smirk curling on his lips. Arabella nods with a grin. “Damon called me this morning. So, I say, we hitch the next flight to Virginia and go watch a bitch die.”

“You really think she won’t find a way to escape it?” Klaus scoffs, stacking up the papers and straightening them out. Arabella stands straight and grabs his glass of blood.

“She’s human, and her body is failing her. Magic can’t help her anymore, so it’s only a matter of time.”

“Never took you for the type to gloat over a dead body, love,” He observes, dropping the papers into a drawer and closing it. Arabella shrugs as she takes a small sip of the blood.

“I’m not. But, Katherine Pierce is one of the reasons my entire family is dead, the _sole_ reason my brothers and I are vampires… do I even need to get on the vengeance train or will you pack up and come with me?” She cuts herself off. Klaus grabs his glass back, standing up and shaking his head.

“No, I think I’ll stay back,” He decides, downing the glass in one go. Arabella throws her head back and groans.

“Oh, _c’mon_. You spent five hundred years chasing her and _now_ you wanna lay off?”

“I’ll toast a drink when she’s finally dead, but she doesn’t deserve the pleasure of a trip in her honor,” Klaus shakes his head. Arabella pouts, falling into his chair.

“You’ve gotten boring. Rebekah is going. Mostly to see Matt, but still.”

“Can’t imagine why she’s still so infatuated with that quarterback,” Klaus rolls his eyes, changing the subject. Arabella hums, spinning in the chair while looking up at the ceiling.

“I can. He can be annoying, but he’s cute,” At this, Klaus sets his glass down a little harder than intended and turns towards her with a raised brow. “Oh, did I never tell you? I hooked up with him while you and Stefan were on your murder rampages.”

“ _What_?”

“Sorry to break it to you, Klaus, but you weren’t the first guy with blonde hair and blue eyes I slept with that year,” She stifles a laugh at seeing the irritation flashing through his eyes.

“Well, it’s hardly a comparison,” He points out as Arabella stands up and walks to the bar tray. She rolls her eyes at his proud little smirk. “Matt Donovan is a weak, frail little human. And I’m, well, _me_.”

“Both unnotable experiences,” Arabella replies without missing a beat, practically feeling the annoyance drifting off him. She turns around just in time for Klaus to speed up to her, trapping her between his body and the tray.

“I am hardly ‘ _unnotable_ ’, Arabella. Perhaps you need a reminder?” She opens and closes her mouth, glaring up at his as he grins at her now flustered appearance.

This is a common game between them. Arabella teases and winds Klaus up until he snaps, and says something to catch her speechless and off guard. And it always ends the same way.

“You’re an ass,” She shoves him away and rolls her eyes again, almost getting a headache from doing it so often around him. Elijah walks into the study a moment later, allowing Arabella to shift the subject to him. “Elijah! Katherine Pierce is dying--”

“Katerina is dying?” He cuts in before she can make an offer to fly to Virginia. Elijah looks down at his shoes and allows the words to sink in, before nodding firmly. “She was a troubled soul. I do hope she finds peace.”

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Arabella throws her hands up and storms past both of them. “I cannot believe _I_ am the most vengeful person in this room right now,” Both Originals watch her leave, laughing as she does so.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Despite Damon’s persistent offers, Arabella opted to stay in New Orleans, away from the dying corpse of Katherine. And perhaps it was for the best, because things only got more hectic from there.

It’s a few days later as she sits in Klaus’ study, three different sets of grimoires in front of her, along with some files from the Mayor’s office. The magic from the Harvest Ritual had instead been used to bring back four ancient and dangerous witches, and she needs to figure out _why_ , _how,_ and _who_. The Witch Faction, unfortunately, refuses to speak to her. They’ve stupidly waged a war, and Arabella needs to find a way to simmer it down before creatures from all factions end up dead.

“Salvatore!” She looks up at the voice of Diego beckoning her, one of Marcel’s daywalkers who now reports to herself and Klaus. He jogs into the living room, a troubled look on his face. “You handle all the witch crap, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“There’s something you need to see.”

And it really is… _something_.

Arabella quite literally has no answers as she stands in the courtyard, looking over the body of Papa Tunde. He was an ancient witch that Klaus had killed almost a century ago, and one of the four that had come back in replacement of the Harvest girls. And now, here he lays in a circle of salt with blood soaking his white suit, very much dead. Again.

Diego stands behind Arabella with crossed arms, watching her inspect the body with a frown. One of the other vampires comes up to him and whispers something in his ear, a heavy sigh leaving his lips.

“What?” Arabella mutters, lifting Papa Tunde’s jacket up for any signs of hexes or curses. The kill was clearly done by a witch, to send a message, but why?

“Monique Deveraux is alive,” She jumps up at the name of one of the Harvest Girls, eyes wide at his words. “Scared the crap out of tourists today when she climbed out of her grave.”

“And all the witches are celebrating like it's a bloody miracle,” Rebekah speaks loudly as she strides into the compound. With a pleasant smile, she adds, “Doesn’t everyone just look positively cheery this morning?”

Arabella clicks her tongue, looking down thoughtfully. “Maybe it _is_ good. Maybe these witches were brought back as temporary placeholders for the girls, and the second they die, the Harvest sacrifices can come back.”

“Does that mean there’s still a chance to bring back Davina?” Marcel, Elijah, and Klaus all walk into the building shortly after Rebekah, here after Diego called them. There’s a spark of hope in Marcel’s eyes, something that has been absent from it these last few days.

“If we can figure out who took her place,” Arabella tilts her head down at the witch doctor’s body, nudging him with her foot. “Then hypothetically, yes.”

“Well, that’s very informative and all, but my main concern is why they would kill someone as powerful as Tunde and leave him in our front yard?” Klaus questions, coming up beside Arabella to inspect the body as well.

“ _My_ main concern is which one of those witches is Davina’s placeholder,” Marcel butts in, glaring at Klaus. “Tunde’s already dead, and Monique is back. I need to know who I have to kill.”

“I have a theory about who one of them could be,” Everyone’s eyes snap up to the top of the staircase, Hayley descending down a few steps with a large poster in hand. She stops, turning it over. The ‘poster’ is dozens of coal drawings, put together to reveal the face of a woman. “Celeste. I mean, it's got to be. Davina was trying to tell us, she was drawing pictures of Celeste. She was warning us that a great evil is coming.”

“Who’s Celeste?” Arabella turns towards Klaus and Elijah, both having expressions of shock written across their faces.

“Elijah’s murdered lover,” Klaus replies, staring down at the body distastefully. “This isn’t witches attacking vampires. They’re declaring war on us.”

“Woah, woah, woah, we don’t know that,” Arabella holds a finger up quickly. Klaus scoffs.

“Sweetheart, we are no longer trying to control the witches, we are trying to defend ourselves against them. It’s time you picked a side in this war,” He points a finger at her, face close to hers. “And I advise you choose wisely.”

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

As everyone scattered to go fix the upcoming problems, Rebekah taking Hayley to the Plantation to keep her safe, Arabella stayed back at the compound. She still had much to figure out, and any former witch contacts she had in New Orleans seem to be boycotting her all together. Stupid on their part, considering she’s trying to _help_ them.

Just as she’s beginning to humor the idea of popping by Rousseau's to speak to Sophie and her niece, a text from Klaus pings on her phone.

_Nikki: Meet me at st annes church ASAP_

_Nikki: I need your help it's important_

Arabella frowns, but still gathers her things into a tote bag and rushes out the building nonetheless. Perhaps whatever this problem is, it has to do with the four resurrected witches as well.

She speeds the rest of the way to St. Anne’s, Klaus meeting her at the entrance of the ancient church. The younger vampire raises a brow at the sight she’s met with.

Father Kieran leans against a podium at the altar, his hand bloodied and face pale, Camille standing by his side with worried eyes. On the podium lays a bowl filled with his blood, just further confusing Arabella.

“He was hexed,” Klaus cuts right to the point, the two of them walking up to the altar. “One of the resurrected witches-- Bastianna-- cursed him. We've been trying to bleed him of vervain to undo the compulsion, but it doesn't seem to be working.”

“Bastianna is back?” Arabella stops in her tracks and groans. “Of course they bring back all the psycho witches. So who’s the fourth?”

“Not quite sure, but whoever she is, she wanted Camille to stab me with _this_ in exchange for a cure,” Klaus pulls a bone shaped blade from his inner coat pocket.

“What is that?”

“Papa Tunde’s blade. Infused with enough dark magic to inflict unimaginable pain upon its victims,” He replies.

“Well, at least we know all the witches have a grudge against _you_ ,” She points out with a shrug, eyes drifting over to Camille. “What _is_ your therapist doing here?”

“Former stenographer, technically,” Camille cuts in, walking up to the two of them. She holds her hands together to keep from shaking, but they still do just that. “I’m Kieran’s niece. Klaus told me about you. The vampire with the witchy jewelry?”

“I’m sure he used just those words, too,” Arabella resists to urge to roll her eyes at Klaus. “And you’re Camille?” It all makes sense, now. She had been confused as to why Klaus was trying to save some human priest, however, now that she knows the connection between Camille and Kieran… it makes _much_ more sense.

“Cami,” She quickly corrects, turning to her uncle. “Please tell me you can help him?”

“Let’s see,” Arabella walks up to Kieran, raising a brow at his disheveled state. Her eyes do a onceover of him, landing on the small, dark x laying beneath his palm. Her breath catches in her throat. “This looks like it might have been caused by--”

“The Rosary of Madness,” Kieran finishes, rubbing his thumb over the x. “My nephew-- Cami’s twin-- was hexed by Agnes not too long ago. He went insane and murdered nine of his fellow seminary students before killing himself. The same thing is going to happen to me,” Camille closes her eyes at his words, horrific memories filling her mind. Arabella watches both of them with troubled eyes. “I need to know if there’s a fix. If there isn’t, someone need to put me down--”

“Uncle Kieran, no!” Camille bursts, shaking her head furiously. “We’ll find a cure,” She turns to Klaus and Arabella. “We’ll find one,” It sounds like she’s trying to convince herself rather than them.

“I’ve never heard of a cure for the Rosary,” Arabella admits, looking down at Kieran’s hand. “But that doesn’t mean it’s nonexistent. I can try to find one--”

“That’s all I ask,” Klaus nods firmly, turning and beginning to walk away. Arabella quickly rushes to catch up with him. “I’m going to find the witch who did this, and find a way to reverse it.”

“Klaus,” Arabella grabs his arm and pulls him to a stop, her brows furrowing together. “That’s not a good idea. You guys were right, the witches are out of control. It’s not safe--”

“I’ll be fine,” Klaus cuts in, his eyes worriedly drifting up to where Camille and Kieran stand. “Just… please, help him. Kieran is a good man, and for her to have to lose another loved one to this hex…”

Arabella watches him closely, the way his eyes fill with concern as he speaks. Perhaps she’s just overthinking it, but this kind of concern he has for Camille and her family… it makes her think perhaps she’s more than just his stenographer.

Pushing the thoughts from her head, she nods, squeezing his arm once. “Okay, just… be safe. Alright?” He falters for a moment at her words, before nodding firmly. Klaus is the immortal hybrid. Not many things can hurt him, yet a gnawing feeling at Arabella’s chest refuses to let him go without making sure he’s going to be okay. Something dangerous lurks out there, among the witch faction, and she’s not so sure they should be challenging it.

As soon as Klaus speeds out, Arabella walks back up to the altar where Camille and Kieran still stand. She studies both of them, before looking down at the bowl filled with Kieran’s blood. A hex. A rather simple hex at that. Yet, for whatever reason, extremely indestructible.

“I can try to look through some grimoires,” Arabella finally says, looking up and motioning to her tote bag. “I have some belonging to the Quarter Coven witches from my time here in the 70’s. If there is an answer, it’ll either be in there, or with Bastianna. Klaus and I should be able to find _something_.”

“Thank you,” Camille nods. Kieran stares at her distastefully, his lips curling down.

“And how are _you_ going to find something? You’re just another half breed, monstrous little--” He cuts himself off, eyes becoming wide. “Oh… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” Arabella raises a brow at him, exchanging a glance with Camille. The hex is already beginning to set its roots in his mind.

“Father, might I suggest you take a seat, and preferably not open your mouth?” She motions to the steps of the altar, where Kieran reluctantly lowers himself onto.

Turning around, Arabella seats herself at the pews, beginning to take out some grimoires and spell pages. She doubts any cure for the Rosary of Madness will come up, but perhaps something similar will lead to answers.

“I know you don’t know us, but thank you, for helping,” Camille comes and sits beside her, leg shaking anxiously. Arabella gives her a tight smile.

“You should be thanking Klaus. He’s the one who called me.”

“Yeah,” Camille laughs grimly, shaking her head. “I’m surprised he’s so driven to help. I mean, after I threatened to out him to the humans--”

“You _threatened_ Klaus? And you’re still alive?” Arabella raises a brow, slightly impressed. That alone also confirms her prior suspicions. “You’re not, like, secretly a supernatural, are you?” She jokes.

“Not that I know of,” Camille laughs, tucking a stray blonde strand behind her ear. “I guess he just wanted to help, not that I know why,” Arabella offers a small smile, but says nothing.

She has a feeling she knows why. And the answer causes her heart to fall in the slightest.

However, the words she hears from the incoming phone call only cause it fall even more.

Arabella raises a brow at the caller ID of Elijah flashing on her screen, bringing it up to her ear.

“Elijah?”

“The witches,” Elijah’s voice is laced with venom as he speaks. “They have my siblings.”

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays everyone!!!<3


	17. Chapter 15

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Marcel, Hayley, Arabella and Elijah have spent the last day and a half scrambling to find Rebekah and Klaus. Arabella had come to learn that the last resurrected witch was Genevieve-- a woman Rebekah had befriended in the early 1900’s to bring Mikael to New Orleans, in hopes of chasing Klaus away and allowing herself happiness with Marcel. Things didn’t exactly work out as planned, however, with Rebekah killing Genevieve, Mikael still coming to town and ‘killing’ Marcel, and the Mikaelson’s running from yet another city.

Arabella was left running around the witch factions of the Quarter, looking for answers and ways to find them. She _knew_ something would go horribly wrong, and that is exactly what happened.

She had been searching around the Quarter, looking for Monique, when she received a text from Elijah saying Klaus had been found, and sedated. Rebekah had been ordered to run as far away from New Orleans with Marcel as they could, and Elijah needed her help.

“Where is he?” Are the first words out of Arabella’s mouth as she speeds into the compound, ignoring the startled looks of nearby vamps. Elijah speeds down the stairs and meets her halfway, nodding for the younger to follow him.

The two of them still don’t particularly get along, each slightly weary of the other, however, they’ve formed a silent, yet mutual, alliance. An agreement to put up with the other without any arguments, at least until all this chaos and war settles down.

“Resting. I just removed Tunde’s blade from his body,” Elijah explains, leading the two of them to the living room, away from prying ears.

“Who stabbed him--?”

“I did. He was attempting to attack my sister, and needed to be put down,” Elijah cuts in impatiently, shutting the doors behind them and turning around. “I’ve called Camille O’Connell to keep an eye on him.”

“You called a _human_ into a building crawling with vampires, to watch over a hungry, weak Original vampire who has little to no self control?” Arabella stares at him in dumbfoundment. Elijah holds a hand up before she can continue on.

“When he awakens, my brother will need to feed from the vein to keep himself alive. Camille’s blood is laced with vervain, which will subdue Niklaus’ full powers, and he cares for her too much to kill or hurt her,” Arabella says nothing, but makes a mental note of that last part. She’s not the only one thinking it. Even Klaus’ own brother sees it, so it has to be true, right?

_‘Priorities, Arabella,’_ She mentally kicks herself.

“Elijah, maybe I should stay back and--”

“I know you’re worried about him,” Elijah cuts in, his brows etching together. “But right now, our presence is required elsewhere. War has fallen upon us at the hands of the Ancestors, Celeste has Hayley, and the resurrected witches’ locations are currently unknown. The matters of my brother’s well being are the least of our concerns at the moment.”

Arabella opens her mouth to argue, but quickly clamps it shut. He’s right. There are too many problems going on right now for her to allow her feelings to get in the way. Shoving down her worry as far as it will go, she crosses her arms and straightens up.

“What’s the plan?”

“We need to find Hayley, and the rest of the witches,” Elijah replies. “Can you perform a spell for their locations?”

“If Celeste has Hayley, she’s probably cloaked her,” Arabella shakes her head. “And I don’t have any personal objects of Celeste in order to find her, but…” She thinks for a moment, clicking her tongue as an answer comes to mind. “Someone with a strong magic based connection with her could probably help.”

“Monique,” Elijah realizes, his brows furrowing.

“But she’s loyal to the witches,” Arabella points out, chewing on her bottom lip.

“Yes, she is. I’m under the impression she also may have killed her aunt Sophie for her disloyalty to the Coven,” He adds thoughtfully. “If we gave her a reason to not trust Celeste…”

“Do you have a reason?”

“I may,” Elijah nods. “But I’m going to need your assistance.”

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

The Original and The Sorceress stride into the Lafayette Cemetery not so long after preparing a plan, a page from Esther’s grimoire in Arabella’s hand.

“I’ve been looking for that little brat all day,” Arabella shakes her head in exasperation as she spots Monique in one of the tombs, laying down and chanting a spell. She stops a few feet away, abruptly, using a nearby grave to steady herself as a throbbing pain erupts in her head.

Arabella grunts, squeezing her eyes shut as a hand flies up to clutch her amulet. Elijah stops as well, worry etching on his face as he gently touches her arm.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Arabella shrugs off his touch, sniffing and blinking a few times. “My Talisman is warning me not to mess with the Ancestors.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Mess with the Ancestors,” Arabella replies with a small, weak smirk, straightening up as she tries to ignore the pain. “I’m fine, it just caught me off guard. Let’s go.”

As the two of them step into the dark and damp crypt, Monique ceases her chanting, irritation flashing across her dark eyes. She bears a striking resemblance to Sophie, only younger with a head of curls.

“When order is restored, your kind won’t be allowed here,” She slowly sits up, sneering at Arabella. “Not even imposters like _you_.”

“Ouch,” Arabella hisses mockingly, laying a hand over her heart.

“Well, fortunately, that day has not yet come,” Elijah shrugs, stepping forward. “We need to find Sabine. I believe she's taken someone very important to us.”

Monique scoffs, standing up. “And you thought I would help you? Sabine is one of us, committed to the rise of the witches.”

“The only thing Sabine is committed to is the destruction of my family.”

“And that would be a bad thing, why?”

“Listen, Little Deveraux,” Arabella steps forward, holding a hand out. “We _all_ want the Harvest Girls’ to get resurrected. _But_ , Elijah here has known Sabine for quite awhile, and he has reason to believe that instead of sacrificing herself, she’ll jump into another body. This’ll defeat the whole purpose of the Ritual, and one of your friends will remain dead. Permanently.”

“No,” Monique shakes her head firmly, frowning. “She has faith. She will see our power restored.”

“There's a way of guaranteeing this. I'll also secure the safety of yourself and your kind,” Elijah nods to the younger vampire. “Arabella?”

"I used to go through Esther Mikaelson’s grimoire, and remembered a pretty interesting spell,” Arabella hands Monique the spell sheet. “If you’re right about Sabine’s loyalty, when she dies, power will be restored, everything will go back to being right in the world, yada yada. But if _we’re_ right, and she tries to body jump, this spell will ensure she doesn’t get too far. I’ll need your help to do it, since you have a connection with her,” Monique seems conflicted as she stares down at the spell in her hands.

“Now please locate Sabine,” Elijah adds.

“Fine,” The young witch finally agrees, looking up. “But this doesn’t mean we have an alliance.”

“Kids these days,” Arabella walks back to Elijah, rolling her eyes. “So picky,” His lips twitch in an almost smile, nodding for her to follow him. As Monique continues to study the paper and prepare for a locator spell, the two vampires stop outside the tomb.

“I’ll go help Hayley. You stay back and help her with the spell, then find the two remaining witches,” Arabella frowns at his words.

“Is that such a good idea? Remember what happened last time an Original tried to go head to head with one of the resurrected witches?”

“Unlike Niklaus, I tend to act with a bit less impulse and recklessness,” Elijah points out, fixing his cufflinks. Arabella nods her head from side to side.

“Okay, that’s fair.”

As Elijah waits for Monique to finish up the locator spell, Arabella leaves, informing them both that she’ll be back shortly. Esther’s spell requires a few potions that she has stored away back at the compound. Plus, it gives her an excuse to go check in on Klaus.

It doesn’t take long to stuff the mixtures into a bag, along with a few offensive spells, just in case Monique becomes a threat. Arabella won’t kill her, but she’s not opposed to a harmless knockout spell if called for.

When she peeks her head into Klaus’ room, a small sigh escapes her lips. He looks pale and sickly, still weak from the effects of Papa Tunde’s blade. Dumbly, he tries to get up, almost falling over. Arabella is about to go rush over to help, but Camille beats her to it, steadying the vampire.

“You’re still weak,” She scolds. Klaus huffs out a sigh.

“I’m still hungry,” He falls back on the bed, hungrily eyeing her neck, before looking down quickly. “There’s a fresh blood supply in the kitchen.”

Camille scoffs, laying her hands on her hips. “You won’t make it that far. So, be a good little boy and get back into bed.”

“If I had a quid for every time a woman tried that line on me…”

“You'd have no money at all,” Arabella pipes, finally making her presence known and walking into the room.

“Worked on you,” Klaus smirks, earning a disgusted eye roll in return.

“No, it really didn’t,” She scoffs, approaching him. Camille raises a brow at the two of them.

“Woah, you two--?”

“Forever ago, while incredibly drunk off my mind,” Arabella cuts in quickly, shaking her head. She turns back to Klaus, nudging him in the shoulder. “You need to rest.”

“Where have you been?” Klaus ignores her, raising a brow. Arabella shrugs, lowering down into a spare wooden chair.

“There’s all loads of crap going on around the Quarter right now. Elijah and I worked out an agreement with Monique earlier, and I need to go back and do a spell with her,” Klaus’ brows shoot up.

“An agreement with the witches already? That was quick.”

“Yeah, you’d be surprised how quickly things can get done when you don’t have a flair for the dramatics,” Arabella retorts, earning a snort from Camille, who’s decided to momentarily rest in an armchair on the far end of the room. Quietly, she adds, “Still got murder on your mind?”

“Did Elijah tell you what they did?” The amusement falls from Klaus’ face, hatred swirling in his eyes as he looks down. Arabella nods.

“He did. But Mikael has been dead for almost two years now, and that was a century ago. Not to mention, they tried to undo it,” Arabella tilts her head to try and catch his eyes. “This is the time ‘ _forgive and forget_ ’ holds a lot of meaning.”

“Forgive and forget?” Klaus repeats, scoffing cruelly. “You’re hardly one to judge me of wanting to seek revenge on my siblings.”

“And that’s the exact reason why I’m telling you not to go after Rebekah,” Arabella frowns. “You can’t kill her, Klaus.”

“ _She_ tried to kill _me_.”

“She tried to scare you.”

“You don’t know that,” Klaus shakes his head. “She knew the risks, and still lured Mikael to our home. For that, she will pay. They both will,” Arabella opens her mouth to cut in, but he quickly adds, “Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted? Marcel dead? What does it matter if he’s buried alongside his so-called ‘soulmate’?”

“Because you love them. _Both_ of them,” Arabella shakes her head, looking down at her hands. “And you’re going to regret hurting either of them. A century ago, my brother murdered my husband and I tried to kill him. A part of me will always be grateful Rebekah stopped me that night. Because even though I spent years after that wishing that I had the guts to put him down, I came to realize that killing someone I love isn’t going to solve any problems. I don't know what'd I do if I had stuck that stake through Stefan’s heart that night,” She looks back up. “You’re angry now, but anger will pass, Klaus. Murdering your own family? That’s not something you can just take back.”

“You spent months speaking of how you don’t want to be involved in my family’s problems. So don’t get involved,” Klaus snaps, grunting as he tries to sit straighter. “You and I are alike, Arabella, but we are also different. While you may show mercy to those who have wronged you, that is simply not in my nature.”

“You showed it to me,” She points out. “Answer me this: You remember that time we both got trapped in the lake house and you tried to kill me? Do you regret saving me?”

“It’s different,” Klaus sneers.

“No it’s not,” Arabella snaps. “I tried to kill you, too. And if you would have regretted letting _me_ die, someone you’ve known for less than two years, then you are one hundred percent going to regret killing two people who are your _family_.”

Klaus stares straight ahead, his face twitching. “Go back to assisting Elijah and making alliances. I don’t need you here,” He glares up at her. “Get out.”

Scoffing, Arabella shakes her head and stands up. He’s too weak right now to be an actual threat to anybody, anyways. She stops once in front of Camille before leaving.

“Make sure he doesn’t leave,” With a glare sent Klaus’ way, she adds, “And don’t feed him any more blood. He’s one drop away from going psycho killer mode.”

Camille’s eyes widen slightly. “What--” Arabella doesn’t give her a chance to finish, already speeding off to the cemetery. 

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•


	18. Chapter 16

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“You got some balls, still being in town right now.”

Marcel freezes in his spot, one hand laid on the doorknob of the living room. He slowly turns around, pressing his lips together tightly. He had come back from St. Anne’s Church to pick up a few things, mostly expecting the compound to be empty.

“Didn’t even notice you were here,” He remarks, coming up to where Arabella sits. She’s seated at a desk, a glass of whiskey in hand. One knee is brought up to her chest and propped against the table, while the other leg anxiously shakes beneath.

“Clearly,” She snorts, swiping a wet strand of freshly washed hair out of her eyes. Her spare hand fiddles with the sleeve of her red hoodie as she looks up to meet his eyes. “You’re nervous.”

“You’re not?” It’s a rhetorical question. Of course she’s nervous.

Everything was going perfectly. Well, not _perfectly_ , of course. But the best it could have been going.

Arabella finished the spell with Monique. Rebekah and Marcel were halfway out of town. Elijah was able to save Hayley, who turned out to not need saving in the first place. Everything was going _fine_.

And then Klaus, as he does, found a way to intervene. Managed to get past Camille, and snatch the indestructible White Oak stake with him. Celeste, before she tried to jump into another body, placed a spell on the Lafayette Cemetery, trapping the Originals within it. Meaning Klaus, Elijah, and Rebekah are all in the cemetery until the next full moon, which leaves Rebekah scrambling to stay away from Klaus’ wrath, Klaus chasing after his sister, and Elijah trying to play mediator to it all.

“Davina is back, along with one of the other girls,” Marcel informs her, falling back into the chair across and dropping his bag of things on the floor. It’s just a few simple items to make Davina more comfortable back at the church. “Shouldn’t you be out there, tryna find a way to take down the spell?”

“I can't,” Arabella shakes her head. “Celeste knew I would try to intervene, so she blocked my Talisman. Within those walls, I’m useless. Elijah texted me last night and told me.”

“How convenient for Klaus,” Marcel scoffs, shaking his head. “How the hell are you supposed to be one of the most powerful witches in our time, yet manage to get your magic blocked at the drop of a hat?”

“How the hell were you raised by some of the greatest strategists of all time, yet are still too stupid to get out of town when one of them wants your head on a platter?” She shoots back. Marcel clicks his tongue, looking down.

“I need to be here for Davina. She has no one,” Arabella sighs, leaning down and plucking a spare glass from one of the drawers. She pours some whiskey in it and slides it Marcel’s way. He watches it with a raised brow. “I thought you hate me? Why are you being all nice?”

“I _hated_ you,” Arabella corrects. “Now it’s more of a strong dislike.”

Marcel watches her closely, bringing the glass to his lips. “What changed your mind?”

“You’re not as threatening anymore,” She smirks, her lips pulling even more up at his eye roll. “Fatherhood made you soft.”

“I’m _not_ Davina’s father,” Marcel corrects, shaking his head. “But that girl needs someone to look out for her. I’m the closest thing to family she has.”

“Careful. Mikaelson’s shouldn’t just throw that word around,” Arabella warns teasingly. “There should be a fine print when signing into Always and Forever. Disclaimer: Your about to enter into a family of thousand year old vampires with mommy and daddy issues. What color coffin would you like?” She says in a robotic voice. They both laugh at that, before it slowly dies down and Marcel lets out a heavy sigh.

“Like I told you once before, I’m not a Mikaelson,” He reminds her, taking a small sip of the whiskey. Arabella snorts.

“You’re a Mikaelson in every way but the name, Marcel,” She points out. “Klaus wouldn’t even let me kill you.”

“He told you that?”

“Didn’t have to. I could see it in the way he talks about you, the way he never actually agreed to my plans of ripping your heart out,” His brows shoot up at that last part.

“Yeah, well, I’m sure he’ll do it himself now.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure. He gets like this, y’know? All dark and murdery. It passes.”

“You seem to know him well,” Marcel hums, downing his glass in one go. “Should be careful, getting close to Klaus like that. It’s dangerous.”

“You don’t talk to me about danger,” Arabella frowns. “Not the guy who kept me in a brick cell for three years,” Marcel presses his lips together tightly, setting the glass down. Peace was nice while it lasted. He stands up, grabbing his bag with him, about to leave. “Wait, did you drive here?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I need you to drop me off somewhere.”

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“You know, I said drop me off, not walk me to the entrance,” Arabella points out as Marcel walks with her to the cemetery, his eyes nervously flickering around. "You want to hold my hand while you're at it? Make sure I don't get hit by a car?"

“I want to make sure Rebekah is okay.”

“You _just_ talked with her on the phone.”

“I know, but--”

“The whole reason I asked you to drop me off at the cemetery was so I could make sure nobody ended up dead,” Arabella cuts him off, turning fully towards him. “He'll only get angrier if he sees you. Bek’s chances are better with you as far away from Klaus’ anger issues as you can get, now _go_.”

Marcel seems conflicted, biting the inside of his cheek as he looks up at the tall gravestones and tombs. “You sure this is a good idea? Getting involved in their family business?”

“If someone ends up dead, it’s no longer family business,” Arabella turns to look at the cemetery as well, her fingers looped into the pockets of her jeans. “Their entire sire line will go down with them. Thousands of vampires, dead. If I can’t take down the magic, I can least talk some sense into Klaus.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Marcel breathes, shaking his head. He speeds off after those words, back to his car. Arabella presses her lips together tightly and continues forward, her hands feeling numb from the cold. For a moment, she stares at the entrance of the cemetery, debating whether or not to embark inside.

Finally, after a small flicker of fear passes over her, Arabella steps over the barrier and inside. The spell doesn’t apply to non-Original vampires, however, an eerier chill still runs up her spine. She holds a hand up, a small, defeated sigh escaping her lips as her powers remain nulled.

Arabella continues into the cemetery, her hands now shaking more from uneasiness than the cold. She knows no harm will befall her in here, but what is she supposed to do if Klaus tries to kill Rebekah? Stand in his way? The anger in his eyes as he spoke earlier… Arabella isn’t so sure he would listen to reason. And then what? The head of a sireline, along with thousand of vampires, dead because of some stupid, century old family drama?

As that last thought occurs, Arabella shakes off the nervousness and confidently keeps going. She’ll be fine, and the fears are irrational.

Well, maybe not _so_ irrational. This is only confirmed as she sees Elijah’s body laying on the floor, a bloody mark on his chest. At closer inspection, she sees that the material of his expensive suit is torn and something seems to be embedded inside him.

“Tunde’s Blade,” She murmurs, realization striking. “Sorry, Lijah’, this is gonna hurt you _way_ more than it’s gonna hurt me,” She apologetically glances at him, rolling up her sleeve, before plunging it into Elijah’s chest.

With a small grimace, Arabella attempts to feel around his internal organs for the blade, which has had enough time to bury itself deep inside. Her finger squelch unsettlingly around his chest cavity, feeling for the blade while trying _not_ to accidentally rip out one of his ribs instead. Just as Arabella thinks her fingers brush against the handle, a much stronger hand grips her arm and pulls her off him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Klaus growls, yanking her up to her feet. Arabella stumbles forward, his hand still tight on her bloody arm.

“Trying to wake up the only rational sibling you have,” She snaps, glaring up at him.

“You two are fast friends,” He sneers down at his brother.

“I wouldn’t have to create new alliances if you decided to think before acting, for once,” Arabella harshly pulls her arm from his grasp, messily wiping the excess blood on her hoodie. She glances at Elijah, pressing her lips together. “How long has he been like that?”

“Not long. I have the mind to leave him like that, however,” Klaus sends a nasty look to his brother’s body. “He forced me to endure that same pain, if you remember.”

“Because you were trying to kill your sister,” Arabella reminds, turning back towards him. Klaus scoffs.

“This is a family matter, Arabella. You shouldn’t have come.”

“Well, if an Original vampire dies, it’s no longer a ‘family matter’. It becomes everyone’s problem,” She says angrily.

“Everyone you care about is under my sireline. What does it matter to _you_?”

“Not everybody is as self centered as you, Klaus,” She snaps. “Some of us would actually _not_ like to see a third of the vampiric population die just because you have a dysfunctional family.”

Normally, Klaus would be a bit quicker to stand up against her accusations, however, this time, he stays quiet and looks away. There’s a deep exhaustion in his eyes, and his shoulders seem to weigh down heavier than normal. Arabella’s eyes drift down to his hand, her blood running cold at the sight of the White Oak Stake in his hand, dripping with blood.

“Where’s Rebekah?” Klaus doesn’t say anything, but his eyes drift over to another part of the cemetery. Arabella follows his gaze, a sharp gasp escaping her lips as she sees Rebekah laying in between the towering gravestones, her body still and a bloody spot on her abdomen. “God, what did you do?!”

She rushes over, kneeling down by the blonde Original and inspecting the wound. Rebekah remains still, but the wound didn’t puncture her heart. She’ll wake, eventually.

“It didn’t hit her heart,” Klaus confirms her thoughts tiredly. Arabella looks up, frowning.

“Because you weren’t aiming for it, or because you missed?”

He says nothing, clutching the White Oak Stake so tightly his knuckles turn white. Klaus walks over to a stone bench, falling down against it and staring straight ahead.

Arabella sighs, getting up and joining him. She slowly sits beside him, eyes focused on the stake in his hand. Gently, she leans forward and pries it from his fingers. Klaus allows her to, and says nothing as she tosses it on the floor.

“I just wanted to make her feel a fraction of the fear I did that night,” He finally speaks up after a few silent moments, still not meeting her gaze.

“When Mikael tried to kill your family in the Opera House?” Arabella remembers what Elijah had told her, about the night Mikael found them in New Orleans. He nods.

“Sitting there, watching Marcel strung up for dead, Mikael right by my ear with a stake in his hand… I thought we were done for. It’s a wonder how we managed to escape… but at what cost?” He finally turns his head to meet her eyes. “It’s not that she called Mikael to our home… it’s that because of her desire to get rid of me, we lost everything. My own sister, my own _blood_ …” His voice trails off as he looks down at his lap.

Arabella doesn’t say anything, giving him more room to speak. Klaus doesn’t talk about his feelings, at least not often. It’s not an easy thing for him to do, and she knows this. She knows because she’s the same way. But the few times he feels comfortable enough to be vulnerable… she won’t stop him.

“I have this fear,” Klaus hesitates to say that, the words tasting odd on his tongue. _Fear_. He fears nothing. But this… this he fears. “Of becoming like him. Like Mikael. Becoming a man incapable of being loved. A man whose own child has a hatred rooted so deeply for him… I don’t want to be like that. And yet, everyday, I find myself inching closer to the man he was.”

“You’re not unlovable, Nik,” Arabella finally speaks up, tentatively laying a hand over his own. Despite her cold hands, her touch brings a warmth to Klaus’s heart. “Mikael was a monster, and you’re not a monster. And I know you’re trying to be better, trying to undo the cycle of violence that your family has been running on for centuries, but apologies and promises mean nothing without change. You just… you have to try harder.”

“I don’t know if I’m capable of being--”

“You are,” She cuts him off firmly, reaching her spare hand up to gently cup Klaus’ cheek and turn his face towards her. “I know because I’ve seen it-- the better part of you. You just have to stop pushing it down,” His mouth opens and closes, words on the tip of his tongue that he wants to say, but he clamps his lips shut and looks down instead.

In his mind, Klaus feels that those words would be meaningless to Arabella. She made it clear long ago those words aren't something she wants to hear, so he finds no use in speaking them. So, they remain unsaid.

Arabella pulls her hands away, digging her thumb into her palm as she sits back and glances at the two unconscious Originals.

“What are you going to do when she wakes up?”

“I won’t kill her, if that’s what you’re afraid of,” Klaus looks up at his sister. “For a moment, my anger almost got the better of me, but I remembered what you said. About the anger passing. So I drove the stake through her stomach instead,” His eyes drift over to his brother. “As for Elijah, I’ll wake him before the barrier falls.”

“Well, then, I should probably go,” Arabella brushes off her jeans, standing up. “You were right-- this is family business, and you guys will have a lot to talk about. So I’ll leave you to it,” She looks down at the White Oak Stake, thinking something over for a moment, before reaching down and picking it up. Klaus fully expects her to leave with it, so he's more than surprised when she offers it to him.

“You’re trusting me with it?”

“It’s not about me trusting you,” She shakes her head, grabbing his hand and firmly placing the stake in it. “It’s about you trusting yourself.”

Klaus takes the stake from her, staring down at the wood encased in the indestructible metal. “Thank you.”

Arabella gives him a small smile, turning and leaving the cemetery.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

It’s past midnight when Arabella emerges from the bathroom after her second shower that day, dressed in her pajamas and ready for bed. The barrier spell has worn off, and as far as she knows, the Mikaelson siblings should be out of the cemetery. However, whatever problems they have with each other can wait until tomorrow. She just wants to sleep.

As she tosses her towels on a chair and continues to scrunch up her curls, a heartbeat catches her ear. Turning around, Arabella is more than surprised to find Rebekah sitting on her bed, holding a necklace in her hand and admiring it.

At closer look, Arabella realizes it’s the necklace Klaus had given her, almost a year ago when they had been in Mystic Falls. The one with his initials and the wolf imprinted on it, that Rebekah had apparently given him centuries ago on his birthday. Arabella’s been keeping it tucked away in a small jewelry box, alongside her old wedding ring and a few other pieces of jewelry she’s collected over the years.

“He was so obsessed with breaking that curse,” She says, smiling down at the necklace. “I got this for him, to remind him that hope is never lost. It used to be tied around a rope, but it kept breaking, so he put on a chain instead,” Rebekah explains, dangling the necklace up, before gently placing it on the bedside table. “I wondered why he stopped wearing it. I see it found a new owner.”

“I told him to keep it, but he insisted,” Arabella shrugs, pushing her curls back from her eyes.

“No, it’s good. It’s a sweet gesture,” Rebekah smiles, standing up.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Bek,” The younger leans against the wall, playing with the sleeves of her sweater. “Can never be too sure with Klaus, y’know?”

“Oh, trust me, I know,” Rebekah laughs humorlessly, pushing her blonde locks over one shoulder. “And I suppose I have you to thank. Marcel told me you came to see him, while Elijah and I were out.”

“I didn’t do much,” Arabella quickly waves her off, shaking her head. “Just talked a little, and left.”

“It was enough to soften him up a bit,” The blonde shrugs. “I’m leaving town. Permanently. Nik has given me an all or nothing deal, and I’d be a fool to not go after my freedom when I’ve finally gotten it.”

Arabella’s brows shoot up in surprise. “Well, I can’t say I won’t miss you, but I think you deserve a break from your family,” They both laugh lightly, a somber mood hanging in the air. Arabella never quite thought she would be saying she’ll miss _Rebekah_. After how much they clashed in Mystic Falls, it’s odd to be getting along with her like this-- like friends. But it’s not unpleasant, either.

“I’ve been saying my goodbyes, giving last pieces of advice where I can,” Rebekah steps forward, pursing her lips. “And I need to tell you something, as well. But I’m going to need you to shut up and let me say it, without your stubbornness getting in the way,” Arabella scoffs.

“I’m not _that_ stubb--”

“Oh, please, Niklaus is the most stubborn person I’ve ever met, and you, Bella, are a very close second,” Rebekah cuts her off with a teasing smirk. “Now promise you’ll let me speak?” Reluctantly, Arabella clamps her lips shut and holds her hand out, indicating for the older to continue. “I know you love him. The others may not see it, and you’re so stubborn you probably haven’t even admitted it to yourself yet, but that’s fine. I see it.”

Arabella opens her mouth to object, despite her promise, but Rebekah quickly keeps going with a held up finger.

“Before you argue, let me just say this-- _no one_ , especially not someone as intelligent as you, would stick by Niklaus’ side for this long, go through all this hell, unless they loved him,” Rebekah shares her observations, an almost sad smile on her lips. “And I _would_ advise you to run as far away from all this as you can. Because I’ve grown quite fond of you, and I don’t want to see you hurt, or dead. But I know you won’t, and maybe it’s for the best,” She sighs, glancing over at the necklace once more. “You’re both broken, and perhaps, two broken pieces like yourselves can make something rather beautiful. But only time will tell, I suppose.”

Arabella watches Rebekah uneasily, her words settling uncomfortably on her shoulders. Like a truth that she refuses to admit. But they’re _not_ true. They can’t be, and she refuses to to accept it.

“If you do end up staying, take care of Hayley, would you? There’s too much testosterone in this home for her and my niece,” Arabella smiles, a bit relieved of the change of subject, and nods.

“Of course I will,” Rebekah returns the smile, stepping forward and pulling her into a hug. The action stuns Arabella for a moment, but she returns it quickly.

“Do stay alive,” The older pipes teasingly as they pull back, rubbing Arabella’s arms with both hands before stepping back. “You’re one of the good one's, Bella.”

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•


	19. Chapter 17

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

It's been almost a month since Rebekah left New Orleans, and since then, things haven't exactly gotten better. However, they haven't gotten worse, either. In fact, everything just... _stopped._

Hayley left to go stay in the Bayou, leaving Arabella, Klaus, and Elijah in the compound, Marcel having been exiled by Elijah. One would _think_ this would mean work still gets done, but instead, Klaus spends all his time either painting, or fraternizing with the only resurrected witch left-- Genevieve. 

Arabella has walked in on them one too many times at this point, despite both her and Elijah's continuous complaints for him to _lock the door_. Or perhaps, not say 'Come in' when he is clearly in bed with a woman.

However, chaos is far from over. Though the factions are not at each other's throats, they've grown more violent by the day. Arabella has tried to control them on her own, having separate meetings with the humans, witches, and vampires, but none of them seem to listen to her. They're under the impression she's only Klaus' right hand, which infuriates her. However, if she tries to act out in any signs of violence, then she becomes no better than Klaus. It's left her torn.

Not to mention, Rebekah's departing words left quite the indent on her. She actually considered talking to Klaus about it, telling him that she still had feelings. Those feelings _cannot_ be love, and she refuses to admit to it, but maybe telling him part of it will allow her to finally move on. Then, Genevieve happened. Camille comes by every now and then to pick up some remedies to help her uncle's condition, and Arabella doesn't fail to notice the way Klaus watches both of them 'subtly'. So, she's decided, now is not the time.

However, all these piling problems have left her rather stressed. Which is why she now sits in an empty and dim Rousseau's, after hours, drinking herself into oblivion. It's been awhile since Arabella's allowed herself to get hammered, and she thinks she's deserved it. After all, basically having to single handedly lead three separate factions hasn't exactly been _easy._ Normally, when this stressed, she would call Stefan, or Damon, but problems in Mystic Falls haven't exactly dissipated either. Better to leave them alone and handle her problems by herself.

There's a cluster of bottles thrown over the bar counter as Arabella pours herself yet another shot glass of an alcohol she's too drunk to decipher. Something clear that started off with a slight burn, but now tastes rather flavorless, with a sweet edge to it. As she squints her eyes and lowers her face right in front of the glass to make sure not one drop spills, someone shuffles in next to her.

Her eyes snap up, a small frown on her face as she turns around. The bar is supposed to be closed, and no one should be here. Seeing Elijah sitting beside her causes Arabella to let out a loud groan of annoyance.

"And here I thought we'd put past indiscretions behind us," Elijah muses, raising a brow at the shot glass, which has overfilled. She quickly tilts the bottle up and places it back on the counter, scowling.

"It's not, like, an _I hate you_ groan, it's an, _I want to be alone and you're ruining it_ , groan," She slurs, pushing back her curls with one hand. At this point, they've become frizzled and messy, but she couldn't care less.

"And just how drunk are you?" Elijah raises a brow at the mess on the counter. Arabella snorts, leaning forward and peeking her head over the bar, Elijah's eyes following. A short gasp escapes his lips as he sees the numerous empty bottles laying on the floor. "Dear Lord, how are you not _dead_?"

"I ask myself that same question all the time, buddy," Arabella tilts her shot glass his way, downing it in one go and slamming it down. "Do you need something, Lijah'?"

"Well, I was hoping to discuss a matter regarding this city's well being with you, but I see perhaps that's not the wisest topic of conversation we should be having," He shrugs off his suit jacket, leaving him in a button up and tie. Far too formal for a bar, in Arabella's opinion. "What are we drinking for?"

She looks up in surprise, arching a brow as he reaches over the counter and pulls out another shot glass. Arabella and Elijah may be allies, but that doesn't exactly make them friends. However, seeing her in this disheveled state, he doesn't think it would be wise to just leave her here to wallow away in alcohol.

"Problems," Arabella shrugs, watching as he pours himself a shot. "City problems, family problems, _guy_ problems," His brows slightly raise at that last part as she props her chin in both hands. "Stupid, _stupid_ guy problems. Like _so incredibly_ dumb. Like, I'm supposed to be _smart_. Smart my ass," She snorts, shaking her head. "I can't even get over a _stupid guy_ , and now, I'm complaining to you!" She laughs, her head falling into her hands as the laugh slowly trails off into a groan. "Oh, God, I am so _beyond_ pathetic, it's not even funny. _But_ ," Her mood immediately lightens as she straightens up and reaches for the bottle. "That is a _future me_ problem. And future me is a whole person of her own, with a bajillion problems that are _none_ of my concern."

"You're not pathetic," Elijah quickly takes the bottle from her grasp, raising it to his own lips. "You're just drunk."

"I am _not_ drunk."

"Ah yes, referring to your future self as if they are another person, the _clearest_ indication of sobriety," He agrees sarcastically with a small smirk. Arabella glares at him, slumping back in the bar stool. "Who is this 'guy'?"

"I shouldn't say," Arabella mumbles, tapping her fingers on the glass. She slowly looks up with a small smirk. "But I'll give you a hint," She clears her throat dramatically. "He's... blonde. Blue eyes. The drama queen from Hell, his name rhymes with _Biklaus_ \--"

"You have feelings for Niklaus?" Elijah is surprised. He had suspected something was brewing between the two of them, but never gathered it was quite this serious.

"Nikki Mikaelson!" Arabella confirms, giggling to herself. "He hates when I call him that," Her smile falls just as quickly as it had come. "He just... he just was _there_. Like, he popped out of nowhere, being the bad guy in town, and I shouldn't have, I _should not have_ gotten close to him, but I let myself, and now, I'm in this whole, chaotic, stupid mess of _feelings_ that I can't push away no matter what I do. I would do anything for him, and that just... it makes me _pissed_! I'm not the kind of girl who needs a guy to make herself happy, but here I am! I- I...ugh." She trails off her slurred words with a groan, dropping her head into her arms.

"I had no idea," Elijah mutters under his breath, looking down at her with a troubled expression. She hums in response, not raising her head. "Do you... Arabella, are you in l--"

"Don't!" She shoots up and points a finger at him, shaking her head furiously. "Don't- Don't finish that question. Don't _ask_ me that question, because I am too drunk right now to lie. And I haven't even admitted the truth to myself yet, so please... _please_ don't make me face that truth yet," She begs, looking back down at the counter. "I can't feel that way about him."

"And why not?"

"Because every guy I've ever felt that way about has either died a horrible, tragic death, or they ended up being psycho and tried to kill me," She replies simply, frowning. "Not to mention, he so _clearly_ has feelings for someone else."

Elijah scoffs. "Genevieve? I can assure you, that horrendous witch is nothing more than a distraction--"

"Not Genevieve," She snorts humorlessly, reaching for the bottle again. This time, Elijah makes no move to stop her. "Camille."

"The bartender?" Elijah raises a brow in shock at her observation. "I know he cares about her, but I was under the impression that they're merely friends."

"Well _I_ am under the impression that he wants to be more," Arabella shrugs, staring down at her freshly poured shot. "And trust me, I- I have tried to find a flaw, which makes me _so_ mad at myself, because I'm not the kind of girl who needs to put other girls down to feel good about herself, y'know?" She tilts the glass his way as she speaks, some of the alcohol sloshing about. "But Camille... she's, like, _perfect_. She's beautiful, _so_ pretty, like, if we were both into girls, I would hit that," Arabella laughs to herself, Elijah's lip quirking up sadly as it quickly fades away. "And understanding, and _smart_ \--"

"Arguably, all traits that you possess as well," The Original offers kindly. Arabella smiles up at him, shaking her head.

"I'm flattered, Elijah, but it's not just that," She sighs. "She's also _so_ nice, and forgiving, and... _innocent_. Not a drop of blood on her hands, I mean, she's like one of those, perfectly, _good_ humans," Arabella head falls into her arms once again. As she speaks, her voice comes out slightly muffled. "And I'm here, being pathetic, sulking after a _dude_ like some high schooler with a crush."

Elijah sighs at her appearance, opening his mouth to say something, perhaps a word of advice. In this drunken state, he doubts his words will really resonate with her at all, but it's still worth a shot, at least to comfort her for the time being. However, Arabella's head snaps back up and she quickly cuts in before he can say anything.

"And what about _you_?" She fists up her hand and leans her head against it, turning towards him. "I spilled all my lovey dovey details, now it's _your_ turn."

Elijah lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. "I'm not quite sure what you mean."

"Oh, _come on_!" Arabella shoves him playfully. "We all see the way you look at Hayley. I mean, I know she's pretty much country livin' in the Bayou now, but that doesn't mean all hope is lost."

"I... am going to need to have a tad bit more to drink before we continue this conversation," Elijah shakes his head with a small chuckle, refilling his shot glass.

Time goes by rather quickly from there, Arabella slurring her speech as she complains about random things, from her brothers to the chaos in the Quarter. Elijah, as he falls more under the influence, laughs along, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. It feels nice, to just put aside worries for one night and allow himself to laugh and joke with someone who he's been cautious of. Refreshing, even.

"You know what we need?" Arabella sniffs as she contains herself from a laughing fit she just had. She can't even remember what was so funny anymore.

"Hm?"

"We need to get _laid_ ," Elijah chokes on his drink, quickly clearing his throat. "I'm serious! _Klaus_ is getting laid. Clearly. I mean, did you hear them the other night?" She scrunches up her nose in disgust, Elijah grimacing at the unpleasant memory.

"Oh, I assure you, I did. I haven't gotten a wink of sleep since he's decided to share a bed with that monster."

"Right, but at least _they're_ getting some," She points out, chewing on her lip and thinking while Elijah pours himself a fresh drink. "You know what? I'm gonna seduce the next guy I see," Arabella decides, nudging Elijah in the shoulder. "And you should do the same."

"Seduce the next guy I see?"

"I mean, if that's what you're into. I don't judge," Arabella shrugs with a cheeky smirk, whipping around and turning in her stool as she scans the bar.

The only thing she failed to take into account? The bar is closed, and empty. Her eyes flicker over the windows, looking for someone out walking at this hour, however, the streets are rather deserted. Apart from a homeless man huddled in an alley across the bar, but she thinks she'll pass.

Huffing out a sigh, Arabella continues to turn... and freezes. Her eyes lock with Elijah, who has the glass pressed to his lips as he downs his drink. He raises a brow at her as they maintain the awkward eye contact, neither saying a word.

Though the eye contact speaks enough for the two of them.

Leaning forward, Arabella takes the glass from his hand and gently sets in on the bar, using her other hand to pull him by his tie and break the space between them. For a moment, Elijah contemplates stopping her, and perhaps it's the alcohol clouding his judgement, but he doesn't. 

His lips move against hers hastily as the Original speeds up, and in a quick second, hoists the younger vampire onto the counter, Arabella untying his neck piece and unbuttoning his crisp shirt. Maybe she's just drunk, and her emotions are just dulled, but kissing Elijah feels... like nothing. It doesn't share the same excitement or thrill that a one night stand _should_ feel.

"Let's go back to the compound," Arabella murmurs as Elijah presses kisses along her neck and collarbone, gripping his shoulders tightly. In the blink of an eye, the Original speeds the two of them back to the compound, in his bedroom, steadying Arabella as she stumbles back on her own two feet.

She lets out a surprised breath, quickly composing herself and yanking off her shirt. Cupping Elijah's sharp jaw and pressing her lips against his once again, however, this time, he doesn't respond with the same urgency.

"Wait," He murmurs against her kiss, quickly grabbing her hands from his face and turning his head to the side.

"What?" Arabella frowns up at him, her expression only deepening as he takes a step back and runs his fingers against his lips. Regret seems to wash over his dark eyes as he creates a distance between them. "Elijah what is it?"

"This is a mistake," He shakes his head to himself, still not meeting her eyes. "I think it would be best if you returned to your own bedroom."

Arabella gapes at him. "Seriously?"

"You're drunk. We both are, but you more so," He explains, picking up her shirt from the floor. "To allow this to continue any further would be to take advantage of you in your vulnerable state. Neither of us are thinking clearly," Elijah holds out the shirt, still looking down at the floor.

"I'm not blacked out on the floor, Elijah, I think I know how to give consent," Arabella snaps, glaring at him. The Original finally looks up, pressing his lips together firmly.

"Go sleep this off, Arabella," She stares at him in irritation and shock, scoffing and snatching the shirt from his hand, before shoving past Elijah and out the door.

Cheeks flushed with humiliation, Arabella messily pulls the shirt over her head and stumbles back to her own bedroom.

Unknown to her, Genevieve stands, hidden in the shadows of the hall in a silk robe, watching. 

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love complicating my OC's life :D
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Lmk what you thought of it <3
> 
> -Athena


	20. Chapter 18

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

One of the many perks about being a vampire is that hangovers are either nonexistent, or very dulled. However, in Arabella's case, considering she practically drank through Rousseau's liquor supply, her hangover this morning happens to be a rather huge one.

As she pries open her eyes, the sunlight pouring in through her window may as well be Hell itself. It's bright, _so_ bright, and blinds her vision to the point where it feels like it's piercing her brain. Her fingers twist at her Daylight ring, sighing when she realizes the pain is from the hangover.

"Ugh," Arabella groans, rubbing her hands over her face. She rubs her eyes until she sees stars, trying to shake the sleep off. The events from last night are a blur. She went to the bar, got drunk, saw Elijah...

_Saw Elijah_.

The vampire-witch's eyes fly open as the ending of last night's memories flood her mind.

"Oh God," Arabella buries her face in her hand as the embarrassment creeps over her. "Oh, no, no, no, _no_!"

She tried to hook up with him. With _Elijah_. Suit wearing, uptight, formal _Elijah Mikaelson_. What was she thinking?

Not only that, but she tried to hook up with _after_ spilling her heart's woes about her feelings for Klaus. What if he says something to him? Sure, Arabella and Elijah may not give each other the evil eye when in the same room anymore, but that hardly qualifies them as friends. Would he keep her secret?

More importantly, how is she supposed to look Klaus in the eye after attempting to sleep with his older brother? How is she supposed to look _Elijah_ in the eye after he kicked her out?

Shoving off the comforter, Arabella jumps out of bed and makes a beeline for the bathroom, deciding she can contemplate this more _after_ a shower.

Once washed, brushed, and changed into jeans and a fitted black turtleneck, Arabella descends down to the kitchen, trying to decide how to handle this whole mess of a situation. She can hear both brothers in the living room, listening closely and praying to whatever entity that is out there that Elijah keeps his mouth shut.

Eventually, Arabella finally walks into the living room, holding two mugs of coffee. Elijah sits at a desk, talking quietly with his brother, who stands by the window with a cup of tea in hand. Both seem calm enough.

"Morning, sweetheart," Klaus smiles pleasantly, leaning off the window and approaching her. His lips turn down at the coffee in hand. "Tell me that's not what I think it is. That _concoction_ is a crime to humanity."

"Good thing we're not human," Arabella rolls her eyes. "And good thing it's not _for_ you," Klaus' brow raises as he puts the pieces together.

"For Elijah?" He glances back at his brother, who studies some papers at the desk, eyes narrowing slightly. A flash of jealousy drifts over his ocean blue, but Arabella doesn't catch it. "Wasn't aware you two had become close. When did this friendship start, then?"

"Oh, y'know, we bonded over our mutual loathing of your new girlfriend," Arabella shrugs, noticing with amusement as Elijah's lip twitches in an almost smile, trying not to give away that he's listening.

"Don't tell me you're jealous of Genevieve?" Klaus teases with a raised brow. Arabella glares at him.

"Not a chance. I just get extra judgy when you start sleeping with zombies," She brushes past him, hiding her smirk as she hears him scoff and leave the room.

Arabella stops in front of the desk, nervously drumming her fingers against the mugs. Elijah sets his papers down and offers up a polite smile.

"Goodmor--"

"Elijah, I am so sorry about last night," Arabella cuts him off, quickly sitting across from him. "For laying all that on you about Klaus, and then, y'know... _kissing you_ ," She says that part quietly, as to not attract any attention from the hybrid, wherever he may be in the house. "I was just--"

"Drunk, and emotionally vulnerable. I understand," Elijah interrupts gently, holding a hand up. "You have nothing to apologize for. If anything, _I_ should be apologizing, for allowing it to carry on so far. I suggest we just forget it ever happened and move past it," Arabella opens and closes her mouth, surprised with his overall maturity regarding the situation. Finally, she settles with a thankful smile.

"Thank you," She breathes, setting the mug down and sliding it over to him. Elijah picks it up, raising a brow and taking a sniff. "It's equal parts coffee, bourbon, and blood. Damon made it, and I tried to get Klaus to try it once, but he said it tastes like something made in Hell," She rolls her eyes, remembering his dramatic response. Elijah stifles a laugh, raising the cup to his lips and taking a small sip. "Consider it my bonus apology."

He tastes it for a moment, humming in surprise. "That is... surprisingly and pleasantly delicious," He nods, taking another sip. Arabella grins, leaning back in the chair with her own mug.

"See? I knew you had good taste," She drinks a bit of her own coffee, clicking her tongue and looking down awkwardly. "And thank you. For listening to me rambling on about my stupid feelings, last night," She laughs nervously. "It was the first time I actually said any of that out loud, and even though I regret, it felt good to get that off my chest."

Elijah lets out a breathy laugh, shrugging. "No need to thank me. You provided a night of laughs and a drink with a friend, so it was all paid forward," Arabella smiles at his words.

_Friend_. Though last night had its downsides, perhaps it wasn't _all_ bad.

"May I offer a piece of advice, before we move past the events of last night?" Elijah asks, running his finger around the rim of the coffee mug. Arabella raises a brow, nodding. "Tell Niklaus how you truly feel," Seeing the panic burst in her pale eyes, he quickly adds, "I give you my word that I will not utter a word to him, but I think it would do you both some good if you were honest."

"Yeah, for sure," Arabella agrees, surprising him. "Right as soon as you tell Hayley how you really feel about her," Elijah scoffs humorously.

"Touché," He shrugs, setting his coffee down and leaning forward, hands clasping together. "There's actually something else I need to discuss with you as well, on a more serious topic. It's about the factions," Arabella hums for him to continue. "My brother has chosen to neglect this city in the past month. I understand that you have been trying to raise it to its former glory, but that's a tedious task for one person to complete. I want to assist you."

"While I'm glad to accept help, I have to ask, why?" Arabella won't turn down help, especially not from Elijah, who seems to be the most logical of his siblings at the moment. However, his newfound interest in the city is a bit suspicious.

"I have hopes that my niece will be raised in this city," Elijah replies simply, standing up and striding to the window with his hands tucked in his pockets. "When my family lived here, the factions were closer than they ever had to achieving peace and prosperity. I want that vision to become a reality, once again. If New Orleans is constantly facing threats of violence and war, it no longer becomes a suitable home for a child, let alone a _family_ ," He turns around. "Help me see it to its former glory."

Arabella smirks, nodding. "What do you have in mind?"

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

After a long eight-- nearly nine-- months of seemingly endless wars and violence, progress _finally_ is being in the Quarter. And all it took was the help from a noble Original vampire who Arabella attempted to have sex with.

Simple.

Nonetheless, Arabella and Elijah managed to work out a treaty, however, none of the other factions exactly agreed on it. So now, they need to find a fix and get it signed before another problem arises.

So maybe not _that_ simple.

Arabella scowls down at her copy of the treaty as she sits on the balcony, a glass of blood in hand and stress lines surely beginning to indent themselves into her ageless skin. The whole idea of this treaty is to set up boundaries in the city for each faction, as to keep violence to a minimum. However, the vampires and witches only grew outraged, and Hayley storming in on the meeting demanding a say for the wolves only further screwed up this plan. She needs to regroup and reassess this 'treaty' before more problems follow.

"I love the wind," Arabella looks up with a small frown at the feminine voice, raising a brow as Genevieve walks onto the balcony. The wind gently blows her silky red locks back, a content smile on her lips as she overlooks the city. "On the Ancestral Plane, you can't exactly feel... _anything_. Any ties with nature are severed at death, but being back, and feeling the wind on my face again..." She trails off, blue eyes drifting over to Arabella, who stares up at her boredly.

"Do you need something?" Arabella looks back down at her copy of the treaty, taking a small sip of her AB positive. Genevieve lowers down into the metal seat across from her, studying the papers nonchalantly from a distance.

"That's the treaty you and Elijah were trying to sell to the factions earlier?" She attempts to play it casually, but Arabella can see she wants something. Genevieve was at the faction meeting earlier, and was just as outraged about the new treaty as everyone else. This calm demeanor is simply a façade.

"Trying to find a way to peacefully incorporate the wolves into the treaty," Arabella mumbles under her breath, tapping a pen against the pages in concentration.

"You know, I don't believe we've ever had a chance to properly get introduced," Genevieve smiles in mock sweetness, and though her actions come off as seemingly kind, Arabella is too stressed to play along right now.

"Yeah, well, you and your Ancestor friends terrorizing the Quarter must have gotten in the way," She drops her pen and looks up with pursed lips. "Look, I'm really busy right now. Just say what you want, cause we both know you didn't come here to make a friend."

A small, amused smile stretches on the redhead's lips, as she bows her head and nods. "Very well. It's about the Witch faction."

"What about them?"

"I think it's only fair they get more freedom and power in this treaty," At this, Arabella puts down the treaty all together, raising a brow in judgement. Genevieve continues to justify her request. "The witches bring in most of the tourists, keeping the Quarter running. We've had to bow down to Marcel for too long, and it's time we got restored to our power. The French Quarter is not vampire or wolf territory-- it belongs to the witches."

The brunette stares at her for a moment, waiting for there to be more to that ridiculous request, before snorting and looking down. "No."

Genevieve seems rather shocked with this response. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. No," Arabella doesn't gaze up as she continues making notes on the papers. "The whole point of this treaty is to achieve equality and peace for the Supernatural factions. Favoring one over the other would just result in more violence, so, no, Genevieve, the witches aren't getting any special treatment."

The formerly dead witch loses the kindness in her eyes, anger and annoyance clouding them instead. Out of the corner of her eye, Arabella notices the change in her body movements, bracing herself for an argument.

"Perhaps you should reconsider," She suggests, leaning over and tapping a slender finger on the papers. "You _are_ a witch, after all. It would do you some good to have a faction backing your corner, especially one as strong as ours. Besides," Her voice lowers dangerously as blue eyes snap up. "I'd hate to see what would happen if you were to upset the wrong people, Arabella."

This causes all movement to stop for the vampire-witch, her eyes slowly meeting Genevieve's with a cold glint in them.

"Was that a threat?" She asks carefully. Genevieve shrugs.

"Consider it a simple warning," The last thing the Ancestor expects is for Arabella to begin _laughing_ at her words.

It's a quiet laugh, lacking any humor whatsoever, and comes off more cold then joyful. After a moment, it dies down, a glare settling on Arabella's face. "I'm not scared of you, or your witches. You're living in the place of a teenage girl-- a _child_ , which I can't imagine the Ancestors are all too happy about. _Perhaps_ you should concern yourself more with whether or not you'll be dead by tomorrow morning, rather than whether or not the witches have power," She stands abruptly, snatching the treaty with her.

Genevieve stares forward as she walks away from the chair, assuming she's left. 

That is, until Arabella leans down by her ear from behind, and in a soft, yet threatening tone, says, "Do not _ever_ threaten me again. Are we clear?"

"Crystal," Genevieve looks up, smiling pleasantly. It would _seem_ like they're on the same page, but the wicked sparkle in her eyes tells Arabella there's something Genevieve knows that she doesn't. Something that gives her an edge.

Nonetheless, Arabella gives her one last glare, before turning and leaving the balcony.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Painting. The most timeless hobby.

There is no greater peace than picking up a brush, and immersing oneself in the world of art and creativity. Many would disagree with Klaus, but he will preach it until the end of times. Art has always been the one constant in his never ending life. It's the _one_ trait he managed to carry over with him when turned. When every other aspect of who he was changed, _that_ remained the same. And it will always stay that way.

Ocean blue eyes drift over the sketchbook tucked beneath a few blank canvases, whispering out to him. He knows what he wants to draw. _Who_ he wants to draw. But he can't, and he won't. Instead, Klaus begins to paint with harsher strokes, trying to distract himself from the one person who clouds his mind a bit too often.

"Oh. There you are," His shoulders stiffen up at the sound of Genevieve's voice, holding back a sigh. Normally, by this point, Genevieve would be a bag of bones, however, he needs an in with the witches. So, here he is, sleeping with one of them. "I've been looking for you."

"And now you've found me," Klaus finishes, dipping a smaller brush in a vibrant vermillion.

"Still painting?" Genevieve observes, lounging on the couch and watching him. She frowns as he fails to even turn and acknowledge her presence. "Well, it seems like everyone here is preoccupied. You, with your painting. Elijah and Arabella, with each other..." The smallest smirk curls on her lips as she sees his hand freeze on the canvas, back muscles tensing up through his Henley.

"They're working on the treaty," Klaus justifies, quickly composing himself and continuing his painting. No one's told Genevieve about what history Klaus and Arabella have, however, she's not stupid. She gathered something was there simply from the look in both their eyes when they glance at each other. And considering Arabella decided to be rude and uncooperative earlier, Genevieve's decided to use that history against them.

"Oh, I _know_ ," She laughs, leaning her head on the armrest and looking up at the high ceiling. "I'm sure that's all they were doing when Arabella left Elijah's room the other night."

"What did you just say?" Klaus drops his brush in a glass of water, little droplets splattering on his hand, but he doesn't seem to notice. A dark and dangerous glare makes its way to his face, full attention on Genevieve.

"Oh! Oh _no_ , you didn't know, did you?" She sits up quickly, mocking regret as a hand flies to her mouth. "Well, then, I shouldn't say anymore. I was a _horrible_ gossip back in my day, and I'm trying to lose that habit."

"Genevieve," Klaus' jaw clenches as he says her name slowly. "What did you see?" He emphasizes each word, lip twitching as the anger bubbles in his veins. Genevieve frowns.

"You seem upset. I wouldn't want to start anything," Klaus takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose to keep from snapping at her.

"Love, I'm not upset. If those two are sneaking around behind my back, I simply wish to not be kept in the dark about it," Genevieve watches him carefully. Klaus' anger has no limits, and she wouldn't want to be the accidental victim of it simply for being the messenger.

"Well," She begins, sitting straighter with a small smile. "I left to get some water the other night, and saw Arabella leaving Elijah's room while pulling a shirt over her head. I'm not sure how long it's been going on, but they make a rather attractive couple, don't you think?"

"Yes," It takes almost every ounce of self control Klaus has to keep from breaking something. Or _someone_. "Indeed they do."

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"Niklaus!" Elijah lets out a heavy sigh, glaring at the double doors to his younger brother's bedroom. He's been knocking and calling his name for about five minutes now, and still, no response, despite Klaus being _inside_.

He can't catch a second heartbeat, but Elijah still braces himself for a vulgar sight as he throws the door open. He lets out a silent breath of relief as he's met with the sight of Klaus painting, rather than him fraternizing with Genevieve.

Klaus' dark blue's snap up from his painting, clouding over angrily, before he speeds off. Elijah blinks for a moment, glaring at the spot his brother once stood, before speeding to follow. He manages to catch Klaus in the kitchen, hunched over the fridge as he looks for blood.

"What are you doing?" The elder asks in exasperation, frowning. Klaus says nothing, snatching a blood bag and opening the clamp with his teeth, sucking through the liquid contents. "Niklaus."

"Bugger off, Elijah," Klaus grumbles, turning his back to him. He's trying to keep his patience. To be the bigger person.

He just happened to forget how difficult that was.

"Brother, stop these childish games," Elijah rolls his eyes, before a new thought occurs to him. "Might I assume this newfound _mood_ you've decided to take on was caused by the only other person you actually interact with nowadays? Genevieve?"

" _Genevieve_ seems to be the only person who is still honest with me," Klaus snaps, finally turning around. Elijah frowns at his words.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, I'm sure you two thought sneaking behind my back would work out so well," Klaus laughs cruelly, shaking his head. "Has years with our sister taught you nothing, brother? Did you honestly think deceiving me would be _that_ simple?"

"Deceiving you?" Elijah repeats in disbelief, catching on to what exactly Klaus is implying. He's not sure _how_ his brother became aware, but he can go ahead and guess it has something to do with a pesky red headed witch. "I'm not sure what it is you're trying to say, but--"

"Don't play stupid, Elijah!" Klaus barks, slamming the blood bag down on the table. In a split second, he speeds to his brother, landing a solid hook to his jaw. A sickening crack follows the hit, Elijah doubling over as Klaus glares down at him. "I know about you and Arabella."

Elijah holds a hand over his jaw, cracking it back into place with a wince as he feels it begin to heal rapidly.

"You have no idea what you're speaking abou--"

"Do not tell me what I do and do not know!" He yells, cutting off the Original vampire once again. "Genevieve saw her sneak from your room, in the night hours. Do you both really take me for that much of a fool?"

"Yes," Elijah, like all others, has a patience level. His happens to be much higher than most, but that doesn't mean it cannot be exceeded. Klaus just managed to push him over the edge.

This time, when Klaus' knee is about to meet his abdomen, Elijah quickly catches it and pushes him back, glaring down at his little brother as he falls to the floor.

"I do take you for a fool," Elijah continues, smoothening his suit. "A fool who jumps to conclusions and resorts to violence rather than attempt to understand the situation. I _was_ with Arabella that night," He ignores the anger building up in his brother's eyes, no longer caring for the consequences that will follow his words. "Because she was in an emotional state, and needed _someone_ there for her. But of course, how could you _possibly_ notice when you are far too busy sharing a bed with a woman who tried to break apart our family?"

"So you took advantage of her in a vulnerable state then?" Klaus growls, his fists clenching so tightly the knuckles turn white. "Saw someone who was in need of comfort, and--"

"Do you not know me at all?" The dark haired vampire cuts him off harshly. "Don't worry about what I did or did not do, Niklaus, because we both know this has absolutely nothing to do with me, but _everything_ to do with her."

"What are you blabbing about?"

"You suggest that _I_ took advantage of her, when we both know it's the other way around," Elijah goes on, anger filtering his words. "That girl would do absolutely anything for you, and yet, you continue to push her aside and take advantage of her forgiving nature. To what end, brother? Shall you wait until the day you have no use for her, until you can simply toss her aside like you always do--"

"You know nothing!" Klaus roars, and in a split second, he has his brother pinned against one of the kitchen walls. However, it's not the action itself that shocks Elijah, but rather the object pointed straight at his heart.

A dagger.

Dark eyes widen in shock and slight panic. "How--"

"-- Do I have a dagger? After our sister conveniently took all of them with her?" Klaus tilts his head innocently. The anger has turned into a calm rage. Knowing Klaus, the latter is far more dangerous. "She assumed I left Finn's in Virginia after his sudden death," The tip of the dagger punctures through Elijah's jacket, making sharp contact with the skin beneath. "She was wrong."

"Dagger me, then," Elijah taunts. It may not be the most reasonable response to having a dagger pointed at your heart, but he's too irritated to care. "It won't make my words any less true. Perhaps, now, Arabella will come to the conclusion I have failed to-- that attempting to change you is a fool's quest and she should run as far away as our sister did."

With those words, Klaus' grip on the dagger tightens, and he prepares to slide it through his brother's beating heart.

However, three simple words stop him.

"Drop it, Klaus," Both men look up at the entryway, more than surprised to find Arabella standing there, one hand outstretched threateningly. Her iris' glow violet as blood rushes to the white of her eyes, veins growing on the skin beneath.

Klaus looks back at the dagger, hesitance consuming him as he debates whether or not to listen to her.

"Drop the dagger, or so help me God, I will blast your old ass to a senior home!" Arabella snaps. All three know the threat doesn't mean much to Klaus. Nonetheless, he loosens his grip on the dagger in the slightest, releasing the pressure against Elijah's chest.

In an instant, Arabella speeds up to him, frowning as she slowly reaches over and lays a hand over his own. Reluctantly, Klaus releases the dagger into her hand, taking a step back. Elijah watches the scene unfold in slight shock. It's not everyday someone manages to calm Klaus down from his dagger happy episodes.

"What the hell?" Arabella breathes, glaring up at the blonde. "Why would you try to do that?"

"Why don't you ask Elijah? It's clear you two are the happy little couple," Klaus seethes, sending one, final nasty look his brother's way, before speeding off.

Arabella stares at the spot he once took up in shock, her mouth hanging open slightly as she slowly turns to Elijah.

"He found out?!" She finally bursts, panic overtaking her. "How?"

"Genevieve," Elijah sighs, accepting the dagger as she hands it to him. "She saw you leaving my bedroom that night."

"That little _shit starter_ ," Arabella runs her hands over her face, leaning against the kitchen counter. "You've to be _kidding_ me. Y'know, I thought she was going to leave a dead goat head on my pillow, or a hex in my coat pocket. But instead she does _this_? What is she, sixteen?"

Elijah frowns, tucking the weapon away in his suit. "You knew this was going to happen?"

"I knew _something_ was going to happen," Arabella corrects, standing straight and turning back to him. "Not this. What does he think happened?"

"My brother has a terrible habit of jumping to the worst possible conclusions from the slightest misdemeanors," Elijah sighs heavily, pressing his lips together.

"Of course, his paranoid ass probably thinks we're scheming against him," Arabella rolls her eyes. Elijah watches her closely, but makes no move to correct her. After all, he isn't entirely sure he understands what's going through Klaus' head himself. "I'll talk to him."

"There's no need to humor his tantrums," Elijah points out.

"I started shit between you and your brother. I owe it to you guys to fix it," Arabella shakes her head in disagreement.

"It wasn't your fault."

"You keep saying that, but I'll feel guilty until I fix this," She presses, offering up a comforting smile. "I'll be fine. He won't hurt me."

Elijah watches as she leaves to go find Klaus, keeping his lips clamped together. She's right. Klaus won't hurt her, at least not physically.

Emotionally is a whole other story.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Arabella isn't all too surprised to find Klaus in front of his canvas again. He stands with his arms crossed and a paintbrush in hand, and to the naked eye, it would look like he's just calmly contemplating on what to add next. However, she knows better than to assume there _isn't_ a multitude of thoughts racing through his head right now.

The younger vampire slowly approaches him, her shoulder brushing against his arm as she comes to a stop beside him. The painting is of New Orleans during the night, the tall city buildings shadowed with a contrast of vibrant blue's and reds, with a cloudy sky up above.

"It's beautiful," Arabella breaks the silence, studying Klaus from the corner of her eye. His eyes rake over the painting, as if he's looking for something. "But you think it's missing something?"

His lips part slightly in surprise at her accurate observation. "Yes," He agrees, flipping the brush around and pointing the wooden tip at the Mississippi River in front of the city. "Something's missing."

Arabella frowns, reaching over and gently grabbing his hand, raising it up so the paintbrush points at the sky instead. "The sky is too empty," She retracts her hand quickly, pressing her lips together as Klaus considers her words. "Can we talk?"

He lets out a humorless and short laugh, his hand dropping. "What is it with you and your incessant need to talk everything out?"

"Believe me, if I knew what was going through your head I wouldn't need to," She crosses her arms, leaning against the table of paint supplies as Klaus turns away. "But I don't. And I think there's been some miscommunication."

"You've hardly spoken more than a sentence at a time to me in the past month. And all of a sudden, you're oh so eager to converse?"

"You tried to _dagger_ Elijah," Arabella points out slowly, unbelieving that she really has to point that out to begin with. "I think we need to clear some things up."

Klaus just scoffs, walking towards his bar tray and beginning to pour himself a drink. "If you came here to defend your lover, save it--"

" _Lover_?" She repeats in disbelief, frowning at him. However, before she corrects his false assumptions, another question dons her. "Why do you even care? Why does it matter who I decide to sleep with, or who Elijah decides to sleep with?" Klaus whips around, glaring at her.

"He's my brother. You _both_ should know better."

Arabella sighs, rubbing her forehead with two fingers. "Look, it was never my intention to drive any sort of wedge between you and your brother. I've had a front row seat to that show in my own family _way_ too many times," She leans off the table and walks towards him. "I only heard that last part of what Elijah said to you before I stopped you from daggering him, but it was enough for me to know that this is more about me than it is him. Am I wrong?"

Klaus says nothing, his back still turned as he keeps a tight grip on the glass, focusing to keep from breaking it.

"Do you think we're scheming about you, or something? Because I can assure you--"

"That is hardly the case," Klaus cuts her off, mentally kicking himself for it. He should have just allowed her to assume it was his paranoia, and not something else entirely.

"Then what?" Arabella throws her hands up in exasperation. "If it's not about your paranoia, or your brother, then what?" Pale eyes soften as she watches Klaus' back closely, looking for any sign of emotion from him. "Klaus, what is it?"

For a second, he actually contemplates being honest. He's not entirely sure how that would go, seeing as he hasn't even been honest with himself. Caring, and _feeling_... it's dangerous.

However, as soon as he turns around, he knows honesty is the last possible thing he can offer her. As soon as his eyes take in Arabella, from her soft curls cascading down her shoulders, to the earnest sparkle in her green eyes that soften as soon as they look at him, an emotion fills up his heart in a way no one has been able to make it fill for centuries. However, with that feeling comes an undeniable fear, a horror sinking in his stomach as he imagines what would happen if someone got their hands on her. If one his enemies stripped her of her Talisman and made her suffer because of _him_.

If lies will keep her protected, then lies he will continue to tell.

"You deserve better than a Mikaelson," Klaus finally says, looking away as Arabella's face falls in the slightest. He can feel the scrutiny of her gaze as she attempts to pick apart his lie, but that's just the thing. He _isn't_ lying. At least not about this. "Only a handful of those who pursue a relationship with a member of this family actually make it out alive. It's foolish for Elijah to take that risk with you."

He turns back around, picking up his glass of alcohol and staring down at it. "However, if you have feelings for my brother, if he truly holds the capability to make you happy... then I won't stand in your way," The selflessness of the words taste almost bitter on his tongue, not sitting right with Klaus in the slightest. But he cares for Arabella, and won't keep her from being happy. Now that the rage and anger has passed, he just wants to do what would be best for _her_. 

The absolute _last_ response he expects from her is exactly what he gets: _laughter_.

Klaus sets the untouched glass down and turns around with a frown, the vampire-witch attempting to conceal her laughs with a fist over her mouth, but ultimately failing.

" _What_ is so funny?"

"You think I have feelings for _Elijah_?" Arabella snorts at the thought, swiping away a tear building in the corner of eye. "You Mikaelson's are an attractive bunch and all, but he's a little too uptight for my taste," She shakes her head. Klaus' jaw clenches as his eyes cloud in confusion.

"But Genevieve said--"

"Genevieve has _no idea_ what she saw," Arabella shakes her head, meeting Klaus' gaze. "She saw me leave Elijah's room, yes, but _nothing_ happened between us," Klaus' mouth falls open slightly at that revelation. She avoids his gaze in slight embarrassment before saying her next words. "I was... drunk. Okay? I was having a shitty night-- shitty _week_ , actually-- and I got hammered after hours at Rousseau's. Elijah found me, listened to me rant my ass off, and I... _kissed_ him. But, being the gentleman he is, he stopped it as soon as we got back to the Compound," She quickly adds the last part before Klaus can jump to conclusions again. "We both agreed to pretend like it never happened."

Klaus thinks over her words for a moment, clicking his tongue as he looks anywhere but at Arabella. Though he won't entirely show remorse for his actions, he _does_ feel slightly guilty for jumping so far ahead based off of what Genevieve told him.

"Well... perhaps my initial reaction was--"

"-- Fit for a drama queen?" Arabella finishes, a brow arched in amusement. Klaus lets out a breathy laugh through his nose.

"I was going to say excessive," His lips quirk up slightly as Arabella laughs, the sound like a melody drifting through the air between them. However, it vanishes as quickly as it had come.

"You know, Elijah and I are going to be spending a lot more time together, now that he's helping me with the treaty," Arabella points out, crossing her arms. "He's a friend, and I can't have you going all dagger crazy every time we're in the same room together."

"I'll mend things with my brother," Klaus waves her off, turning back around to grab his drink once again, this time with the intent to actually _drink_ it, rather than distract himself with it. "You needn't worry about any of that, love."

"Sure I don't," Arabella mutters under her breath sarcastically, turning to leave. However, she stops for a moment, turning slightly. "And Klaus?"

"Hmm?"

"You don't have to worry about me ever ending up with a Mikaelson," There's slight humor tinged in her voice, however, seriousness as well. And Klaus doesn't fail to pick up on it. "It's never going to happen."

With that, she turns and walks away, leaving Klaus with her words. Leaving him with so many more unspoken words, words that never _can_ be spoken. 

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry for the late update, I had to fix a bunch of things in future chapters, and it took me a little while to perfect this particular chapter. Hope you guys enjoyed it!
> 
> -Athena<3<3<3


	21. Chapter 19

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

More progress has been made in the Quarter this past week than the last eight months combined. Elijah and Arabella (though with struggle) managed to get all factions to sign a peace treaty, at least for the time being. There was a party a few nights ago at the compound, the vampire-witch and the Original playing hosts for the evening. It was Klaus' idea, one that he offered to his brother while trying to make amends, for Arabella's sake. And though it was a rocky evening, it ended rather well.

Now, she sits in a chair in the courtyard, reading over the treaty for the millionth time as Elijah watches over some men drill into the flooring. He had hired them to come and remodel some parts of the home, and has been at it all morning.

“Y’know, I think this is the first time I’ve seen you out of a suit,” Arabella remarks with amusement, doing a once over of his green, cotton shirt and black pants. Elijah walks over, picking up one of the coffee’s she had made.

“I wouldn’t dare risk getting filth on one of my suits,” He replies simply, earning a snort of amusement. The two of them have settled on an unspoken friendship since that... _dreaded_ night.

When putting aside their quarrels, the pair find they share many similarities. Both agreeing that they’re the only siblings in their family’s with a shred of common sense, and both being civilized enough to trust and communicate with one another. The friendship, however, seems to annoy Klaus, only making it all the more appealing to Arabella. 

He continues his relationship with Genevieve, despite what she did, so Arabella will keep the friendship with his brother. Since their conversation after he tried to dagger Elijah, neither of them have exactly tried to speak to one another. Just simple greetings and dry teases. 

“Enough with all the racket!” Klaus booms over the noise, standing by the railing on the second floor. Genevieve stands by his side.

“Is there a problem, brother?” Elijah looks up at his younger brother innocently. He glances at the workers. “Gentlemen, please.”

Arabella turns back to her papers as Klaus complains about ruckus, not having much interest in his complaints, nor his little plaything. However, her attention is caught again as Klaus goes to get himself some blood, leaving the pair alone with Genevieve.

“I'm told our coven hasn't been able to celebrate feast days in the open since Marcel restricted the use of magic,” She begins, keeping her eyes on Elijah. “Now with the new peace, I'd like that to change.”

“Am I to assume you have a certain feast day in mind?”

“ _La Fête des Bénêdictions_ ,” Arabella snorts, and even Elijah lets out a breathy laugh in disbelief. “Feast of the Blessings. In the past, members of the community offered witches gifts in exchange for blessings. We'd like to use it as a forum for introducing our young Harvest girls to society.”

“You can’t be serious?” Arabella pipes, setting her papers down and standing up to join the conversation.

“Your coven attempted to destroy my family-- and you yourself held my siblings in unspeakable torment-- and you would like a party for the witches?” Elijah adds with disbelief, shaking his head in amusement.

“I made amends with your brother. Why not?” Genevieve smiles pleasantly at the two of them. Elijah scoffs, turning to go make himself a drink at the bar tray.

“The other factions _despise_ the witches,” Arabella points out, crossing her arms. “What makes you think they’re going to want to give them gifts?”

“Oh, not this again. Shouldn’t you be on my side?” Genevieve raises a brow at her. “This is why no one trusts you, Arabella. Not the witches, certainly not the vampires, and not even the Mikaelson’s,” Elijah turns around, frowning at the sudden turn of conversation. “If you want to stand in the way of the witches, that’s fine, but don’t be surprised when you get what’s coming your way.”

“Is that another threat?” Arabella asks through gritted teeth, her patience slowly ticking away. Genevieve gives her a wry smile.

“I’m just advising you don’t cross me, dear. I would've thought you learned your lesson after last time?”

That’s the limit. In an instance, Arabella has Genevieve pinned against one of the stone pillars by her throat, glaring up at the red head.

“And I thought you would've remembered not to threaten me, _Genevieve_ ,” She spits, glaring up at her. Genevieve attempts to do a spell, however, Arabella beats her to it. Green eyes turn an eerie violet as she begins to cause a migraine in the witch’s head, unfocusing her magic. “I’ve got years on you. You’re living on borrowed time, so I wonder how thankful the Ancestors will be if I kill you myself and bring back the Harvest Girl whose place you stole?”

"Arabella,” Elijah sighs, setting his glass down.

“You know what the great thing about being The Sorceress is?” Arabella ignores him, continuing. “I’m not bound by superficial things like nature, or The Ancestors. I make my own goddamn rules, meaning I’m not going to bend over backwards to make sure _you’re_ happy. You want someone to kiss your ass, go get Klaus, but I’m not going to sit by and take _threats_ by a zombie witch living past her due date.”

“Arabella!” Elijah shouts, speeding over to the two of them. He makes no move to pry her off Genevieve, but keeps a hardset glare on the younger vampire. Reluctantly, Arabella releases Genevieve and steps back.

The witch stumbles forward, coughing as she rubs her neck. “I thought we were supposed to have _peace_?” She glares at Elijah.

“You’ll have you feast,” Elijah snaps, his jaw clenching. “Now go.”

“I’ll look past this for now, but I’d watch my back if I were you,” Genevieve hisses to Arabella, before storming out of the Compound.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

The Feast of Blessings Party is packed to the brim with guests, representatives from all factions coming to pay respect to the witches. None were all too happy about the circumstances, but Elijah had managed to convince each to offer up their gifts.

Arabella, reluctantly, attended as well. She still doesn’t trust Genevieve in the slightest-- a resurrected witch living in place of a teenage girl? Who tries to start conflict at the drop of a hat? It doesn’t sit right with her.

She stands off to the side, made up in a deep green wrap dress with a low v, the sleeves cutting short right past her elbows. Her hair is gelled up into a tight ponytail at the top of her head, curls brushing along the tops of her shoulders, with a silvery makeup look to top it. The entire get-up had taken her longer than usual, only because she couldn’t stop thinking about what this evening would bring. Something tells her it’s not going to end particularly well.

Arabella’s eyes zero in on the Harvest Girls, Davina, Abigail, and Monique, all three entering the building with Genevieve trailing closely behind. They’re dressed almost like the different elements-- fire, air, and earth. Only one missing is water, as is the remaining Harvest Girl. After Genevieve gives a small speech, the offerings begin.

Arabella steps into line with a mid sized box in hands, wrapped neatly, with a delicate ribbon to finish it off. As she gets to the front, she makes a move to go for Davina, but the woman organizing the line points her in the direction of Monique.

“Uh, I don’t think so,” Arabella frowns. The woman attempts to move her over to Monique, but she shrugs out of her grasp with a glare. “No offering can be denied, right? Now back off.”

She's noticed what’s been going on, while waiting in line. While Abigail and Monique continued to get gift after gift, Davina was left with none. Clearly, this was some form of punishment for not being as loyal as the others. To Arabella, it’s all petty, childish, and frankly, mean. Each gift getting diverted from the young witch seems to leave her more and more upset.

“Hi, Davina,” Arabella steps past the woman, emerging to where Davina sits without any gifts by her feet. The young witch represents fire in a red gown and intricate headpiece.

“Arabella,” Davina looks surprised to see her, quickly offering up a polite smile. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Who do you think helped Elijah plan this whole thing?” Arabella shrugs. Partially plan. Elijah did most of the heavy lifting. “It’s good to see you, y’know… _alive_.”

Davina laughs nervously, nodding. “Um, Marcel told me that you placed a protection spell on me to save my life. I never really got a chance to thank you--”

“No, you don’t have to thank me,” Arabella quickly holds a hand up, shaking her head. She presses her lips together. “I just wish I’d been able to save your friend, too,” Davina looks down sadly at the memory of Tim. Arabella quickly decides to change the subject. “How are you feeling? Enjoying the life of a Harvest Girl?”

“Eh,” Davina shrugs, frowning. Her eyes drift to the far end of the platform, where Monique sits accepting gifts. In a quiet voice, she says, “The other Harvest Girl, Monique, she doesn’t think I deserve it. She used to be my friend, but now…” She shakes her head, looking back down.

“Monique is a brat,” Arabella assures her, comfortingly touching her arm. Trying to lighten up her mood, she adds, “Trust me, all the badass witches deal with their bitchy bully. Don’t let her get to your head,” Davina laughs at her wording.

“Did you?”

“Oh yeah. My, uh, sister, Felicity. She was a… piece of work,” Arabella finally settles, laughing bitterly at the memories of her sister’s cruel teasing's. Somehow, despite how mean Felicity had been, her heart still aches with grief at the thought of her face, beautiful and young, taken too soon. Arabella quickly pushes the thoughts aside. “Here,” She hands her the gift, the teenager looking surprised to finally get an offering. “It’s a spell from my grandmother’s grimoire. I heard you’ve been having trouble with your magic, so hopefully that can help,” She explains. “And a sketching kit. I remember Marcel saying you like to draw?”

“Thank you so much,” Davina’s eyes lighten up as she carefully places the box beside her.

“Try to enjoy the night. This is all for you guys, anyways,” Davina nods, whispering another small thanks, before Arabella leaves. Not before sending a nasty smirk to a scowling Monique.

Arabella turns around, scanning the crowd curiously, overlooking each guest that walks through. Just as she’s about to go grab herself a drink, she spots Hayley, dressed in a black cocktail dress and looking _very_ pregnant.

Hayley’s eyes light up slightly at the sight of Arabella. They haven’t spoken very much in the past month. When Elijah hosted the party to sign the treaty, they didn’t exactly get a chance to speak much, seeing as Hayley was accompanied by the Crescent Pack Co-Alpha, Jackson Kenner, and his right hand, Oliver. 

Arabella also decided it would be best to not mention what took place between herself and Elijah. There are unresolved feelings between the wolf and the Original, and considering how pregnant Hayley is, she didn't want to add any more stress to her already growing plate. 

“Representing the wolves?” Arabella muses, leaning her back against the wall as she walks up to her. Hayley nods, shrugging.

“Yeah, I need to talk to Klaus, and would rather do it alone,” She explains, laying a hand over her stomach. Arabella smiles.

“Starting the last month of pregnancy, right? How’s that treating you?”

“I’m tired, sore, and everyone and anything annoys me,” Hayley replies in exasperation, earning a laugh from the elder. “But fine, all things considered.”

“So, are you really planning on having your baby in the swamps?” Arabella leans over and whispers. Hayley groans, rolling her eyes.

“Not you too.”

“I’m just saying!” Arabella laughs, holding her hands up in defense. “You really want the first thing your baby sees to be _mud_?”

“You sound like Elijah and Klaus,” She accuses, lip curling up into a small smirk as a look of mock offense morphs on Arabella’s face.

“Wow, that- that _hurts_ ,” She lays a hand over her heart. “I’m really offended.”

Hayley laughs, shaking her head and rubbing a hand over her belly. “Look, don’t tell Elijah, cause I don’t wanna give him false hope, but I really don’t know where I’m going to have this baby. _But_ , wherever it is, I wanted to ask you for something,” Arabella hums for her to continue, frowning. “I’d rather have a medical professional I _trust_ to help me with the birth, so would you be okay…?” She trails off awkwardly. Arabella’s lips break into a grin.

“Of course. I’d be happy to help,” Hayley smiles in relief. “I can play midwife for a couple more months.”

“Thank you. I love everyone in the Bayou, but I’d rather not have someone manhandling my baby, you know?” They laugh at her light joke, but Arabella’s die down quickly as she locks eyes with Klaus across the room, who jerks his head for her to come over there. Sighing, she bids a quick farewell to Hayley and goes to join him.

“Davina hates you. What are you doing here?” She hisses. He _looks_ good, in a crisp black suit, but that’s besides the point.

“I’m here to drop off my offerings for our little witch,” Klaus replies, holding up a tiny box. Arabella frowns.

“What is that?”

“Well, now, that would ruin the surprise,” He smirks mischievously.

“Your ‘surprises’ always end up causing trouble.”

“You’re hardly one to speak about causing trouble. Was it not you who attacked Genevieve earlier today?” He shoots back, arching a brow. Arabella snorts.

“What? You gonna defend her honor, now?” Klaus frowns at her words.

“I’m working to maintain the peace. After all of the hard work you and Elijah put into it, it’s the least I can do,” Arabella rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, I’m sure ‘maintaining the peace’ is _so_ hard for you,” Klaus shrugs, smiling slyly.

“Who said you couldn’t maintain the peace and have a little fun while doing it?” His smile drops, however, when he notices Arabella doesn't share his amusement. “You understand the relationship between Genevieve and I is solely for the purpose of peace, don’t you?”

“No need to explain to me the logic behind your hook-ups, Klaus,” Arabella rolls her eyes. “I really don’t care.”

Klaus opens his mouth, wanting to explain to her that Genevieve hardly means anything to him, however, he spots Josh and Davina in the shadows of the party, speaking in hushed voices.

“We’ll continue this conversation later,” He assures, turning and leaving,

“God, I hope not,” Arabella grumbles, scanning the crowd for somewhere to get a drink. She needs it now more than ever.

“You know, for once, my brother is right,” Elijah quite literally pops out of nowhere, almost startling Arabella. “We need to maintain the peace. That little display with Genevieve this morning can’t happen again.”

“I don’t trust her,” Arabella defends her actions, frowning. “Neither should you.”

“We both know it’s more than a matter of trust, Arabella,” Elijah points out in a hushed voice. Arabella gapes at him, understanding immediately what he’s implying.

“I didn’t attack Genevieve in some act of jealousy,” She snaps, glaring at him. “You know, when I told you all that crap at the bar, it wasn’t so you could hold it over my head every time I do something irrational. Not everything is about your brother, Elijah.”

Elijah opens his mouth to say something, however, Klaus’ voice over the chattering crowds ends their conversation. The Original and the vampire-witch exchange mutually troubled glances, before directing their attention to the staircase.

Klaus stands, holding Josh in place by the scruff of his neck as Davina stares at them both fearfully. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention, please. We are gathered here today to pay homage to our beloved witches, but one very special witch has been utterly ignored. That seems a little unfair to me,” He holds out the small box for Davina to take. She stares at it in disgust.

“No. I don’t want your gift,” Arabella snorts, quickly holding a hand over her mouth to stifle her laugh as irritation flashes across Klaus’ eyes.

“He’s literally the queen of all drama queens,” Arabella mutters to Elijah, the two of them watching as he continues on a dramatic speech, threatening to kill Josh, but explaining that he’ll put aside the vengeance for peace.

“Indeed he is,” Elijah agrees, sighing. Davina ends up taking the gift, and Klaus leaves the two friends alone. He frowns, listening closely. “He gave her a daylight ring spell. For Joshua.”

“So either he’s actually cooperating for once, or he’s planning something,” Arabella muses. Elijah presses his lips together.

“You don’t trust him?” Arabella looks up, frowning.

“I’d trust him with my life, but to not cause trouble? No, I don’t trust him on that front,” Elijah’s brows furrow together at her words, however, once again, as he tries to speak, he’s cut off. This time by a group of drummers descending down the staircase, all dressed in crisp white suits.

“ Happy _Fête des Bénédictions_ ,” The head of the group announces loudly. Arabella looks over at Elijah, expecting this to have been something he had arranged, however, her worry spikes when he seems just as confused as she is. “We have a message for all of you from Marcel Gerard.”

Before anyone can react, the drummers pulls out razor blades and slide them across their wrists. Blood pools and flows down their arms, dripping onto the floor as a few frightened screams and gasps scatter through the crowds.

The smell of their blood hangs heavily in the air, every vampire in the room struggling to manage their bloodlust. Even Arabella has trouble doing so, her fangs involuntarily sliding out as her eyes glaze over red and veins protrude from beneath them. With how busy everything has been, she hasn't had a chance to properly feed today, and the hunger begins to get the better of her.

“Arabella,” Elijah hisses, grabbing her arm.

“I can’t control it,” She grits out, hands shaking as her eyes zero in on the pools of blood. Only one thought can cloud her mind, and it’s to pounce on one of those drummers and bleed them dry. Arabella can only imagine the other vampires are struggling even more. The only one's _not_ struggling are Klaus and Elijah, who have had plenty of years to manage their hunger.

“Control yourselves! This is a vulgar trick,” Elijah steps in front of the drummers, directing his words to the vampires. “We do not violate our agreement.”

Suddenly, the lights flicker out, leaving the room in darkness. Chaos erupts as people scream and scramble to get out, however, Arabella can only focus on the blood. In the darkness, it would be so simple to just speed over and--

“Come on, love,” Klaus is by her side without warning, grabbing her arm and forcing her away from the scene. Reluctantly, Arabella allows him to drag her out of the building.

He pulls an arm around her shoulder and speeds them a good few blocks away from the chaos, into an alley where a man stands, smoking a cigarette. Klaus nudges her forward, and after a quick compulsion, Arabella begins to feed.

She drinks for a few moments, almost getting lost in the feel of the blood running from his vein and into her mouth, until she realizes how slowed his heartbeat has become. Quickly, she slides her fangs from his neck and feeds him her blood.

“Go home, and forget this happened,” She compels, the man turning and leaving without another word. Klaus, who’s been leaning at the front of the alleyway with his hands in his pockets, watches the man go. Arabella walks up to him, accepting the handkerchief he offers and using it to wipe the blood from her mouth and chin. “Nobody saw?”

“You’re clear,” Klaus nods, raising a brow. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Arabella laughs bitterly. “Not all of us have a thousand years of experience with controlling the bloodlust. I was just caught off gaurd.”

“You’ll get there,” Klaus smiles, teasingly. Arabella doesn’t return it, staring down at the bloodied piece of cloth distastefully.

“I knew something would go wrong,” She shakes her head. “We were stupid to think peace would be manageable.”

“Marcel is simply acting out,” Klaus shrugs. “Elijah will take care of it.”

“Is everyone okay?”

“Other than the massacred humans?” The hybrid sighs. “Yes. Elijah messaged me earlier to let me know the Harvest Girls and Hayley made a safe exit.”

“Good,” Arabella lets out a relieved breath, but a heavy weight still stands on her shoulders as she shuffles awkwardly. “I should go home, then.”

“Wait,” Klaus catches her wrist before she can leave, turning the younger vampire towards him. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“What?”

“You have,” He continues, frowning. “This past month, and ever since our conversation the other day. You’ve even gone as far to seek comfort in my brother--”

“Elijah and I are friends,” Arabella snaps, glaring. "I thought we went over this," Klaus raises a brow.

“I never implied you were anything more. My point is, we were once friends as well, but in this past month, you can hardly even stand to look at me. Why?” There’s hurt tinged in his voice as he speaks, even though the Original tries to hide it. Arabella scoffs, looking down at her heels.

“Everyone’s been busy, Klaus,” She lies. “Including you,” The truth is, she’s been avoiding him ever since what Rebekah said to her, before she left. Her words struck a cord, and Arabella feels like distancing herself from Klaus is the best idea right now. She may not be able to help how she feels, but she _can_ do everything in her power to make them go away. 

“You’re not telling the truth,” He accuses, his brows furrowing together. “Tell me what’s wrong. Let me try to fix it,” There’s an earnesty in his words and eyes. In that moment, Arabella wants to tell him. She wants to be honest, and for once, just stop caring about the consequences.

But she can’t. She can’t be the person who puts all other things aside. There would be so many more problems to arise if she were to tell him the truth, problems around herself, him, _them_ , and not to mention, her brothers. Too many cons to outweigh the pros.

So, she says nothing.

“You can’t fix it,” She shakes her head. “Because there’s nothing to fix,” Klaus sighs in defeat, feeling a frustration grow for her stubbornness. “I’m going home. Goodnight, Klaus.”

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Tbh, this chapter was kinda a filler chapter, to keep up with the events of TO, which is why it's pretty poorly written, so sorry about that haha. I promise next chapter is going to be A LOT more action packed ;)  
> -Athena<3


	22. Chapter 20

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

In the past few days, peace seems to be just as unimaginable as it was a month ago. While visiting the Bayou and making preparations for her birth, Arabella and Hayley witnessed an attack on the werewolves there. Every faction was under investigation. And since then, Father Kieran passed away from the hex Bastianna cursed him with. 

Today is the funeral, in traditional New Orleans style. Despite the day being meant for peace and remembrance, unsurprisingly, problems via Mikaelson’s still manage to get in the way.

Elijah and Klaus have begun to have visions of Mikael. According to a call from Bonnie, Arabella learned that the Other Side is collapsing. Supernatural souls are struggling not to get sucked into nothingness, Mikael amongst them. Though he prefers to spend his lingering days tormenting his children. Fitting.

Klaus, Hayley, Arabella and Elijah all walk beside one another amongst the crowd in the French Quarter. Father Kieran’s wake was just finished, and now, they walk behind his casket in a parade in his honor.

“Are you sure our little Bennett witch even knows what she’s talking about?” Klaus asks as they walk, squinting in the sunlight. “Wasn’t she dead, and now an Anchor for all the deceased? Perhaps all that death has gotten to her head.”

“She knows what she’s talking about, Klaus,” Arabella sighs. “I’ve been hearing whispers for the past few days, too. From the Talisman.”

“Saying what, exactly?” Elijah leans over Hayley, frowning.

“I don’t know,” She chews on her bottom lip. “They just keep getting louder, but I can’t make them out,” In honesty, they’ve gotten rather annoying. Whispers filling her ears every second of the day and night. She hasn’t slept more than ten minutes in the past three days because of it, and can only imagine they’re thanks to this chaos with the Other Side. 

Hayley begins coughing, both brothers' attention turning to her as Arabella thinks over what the Talisman could be trying to tell her. Meditation, spells… none of it seemed to work. The magic inside is trying to reach her, but just _can’t_. It’s infuriating.

“I bloody hate funerals,” Klaus grumbles as Hayley breaks off from them. Elijah and Arabella both scoff.

“That’s ironic, since you cause half of them,” Arabella retorts. Klaus side eyes her, struggling to keep an irritated face on. He’s been worried about her, in truth, and it's good to see Arabella feeling like herself again after a stressful few days. “How’s Cami? Have you spoken to her?”

“She’s… holding up,” Klaus finally settles, pressing his lips together. “I’ve convinced her to leave New Orleans after her uncle’s funeral. She’ll be out of here and safe by the end of the week,” Arabella’s brows shoot up in surprise, and she catches Elijah (who tries to pretend he’s not listening) arch a brow as well.

“Really?” She frowns. “You convinced her to leave? You don’t want her to stay here?”

“It’s not safe for a human,” Klaus shakes his head. “Though I value our friendship, I think it’s time for her to move somewhere where she can live a normal life.”

“Without you?” Arabella asks again, earning a suspicious look in return. Klaus isn’t exactly the most selfless person. All this time, she had assumed he was developing feelings for Camille, but why send her off so quickly if that was the case?

“Why not?” He replies smoothly with a frown. “I suppose Marcel may miss her, as they’ve begun a relationship last I heard, but if he wants her that bad, he can go with her,” Arabella’s brows furrow at his words, however, before she can say anything, her eyes are caught by a figure on the sidelines of the parade, falling unconscious. At closer inspection, she realizes it’s Hayley.

“Oh my God, Klaus!” Arabella hisses, grabbing his arm and catching both vampire’s attention. Hayley lays on the floor, unconscious, blood around her body and lips. All three of them speed over.

“Hayley!” Klaus kneels by her side, his eyes wide with fear. He looks up at Arabella. “What’s going on?”

“I-I don’t know,” Arabella stumbles, trying to hear over the whispers, which have become so loud she can barely think over them. Elijah says something as he scoops up Hayley, but she doesn’t catch it. Instead, she follows them to the compound as they take Hayley’s body, trying to push away the whispers. With the whispers now come a mind numbing pain, one she can’t focus past.

“She’s not breathing,” Arabella barely hears Elijah say as he lays his jacket over Hayley’s shivering body. Klaus stands by her, his shaking hands hovering over her body, as if he’s afraid to touch her. “I can hear the baby’s heartbeat, but not hers.”

“I think there’s a spell I can try,” Arabella clears her throat, blinking to try and focus her vision. “G-get me chamomile from the pantry,” Klaus speeds off to go complete the task, Arabella coming to stand over Hayley’s body. Clearing her throat, she carefully lays a hand over her forehead.

The visions she’s met with cause a strangled gasp to rip through her throat.

Monique, the Ancestors, Genevieve… they’re trying to kill the unborn Mikaelson child. The Harvest Girls have been given a task by the consecrated witches, to get rid of the baby. Visions of dangers lurking around Klaus and Hayley’s daughter, visions that they’re terrified of. Arabella can’t make out any one thing, yet she understands completely. And it horrifies her.

Her body drops from Hayley’s side to the floor, Klaus barely managing to catch her in time. Her eyes, still wide and glowing, stare unblinkingly up above.

Though she looks like she’s in a trance, Arabella is actually trapped within her own mind, stuck by the Talisman’s decree.

She needs to warn them. _Tell_ them, _do something_. They’re trying to kill Hayley and the baby, and yet she’s stuck in her own mind, her body simply a cage now. As her consciousness begins to slip off, she manages to push through with a last surge of energy.

“G-Genevieve,” Arabella barely manages to whisper. She hopes it will come as warning enough for them, however, before she can say more, her consciousness slips away, eyes rolling in the back of her head and lulling shut.

“Get Genevieve,” Klaus snaps to his brother. “I think she’s trying to tell us to get Genevieve for help,” Elijah nods, speeding outside to go find the witch, who also is in attendance of Father Kieran’s funeral.

Klaus looks up at the mother of his child, and the woman in his arms, heart racing at a mile a minute. Little does he know, this is only the beginning of a rather long and terrible week.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

_“Please!” Arabella screams into the nothingness she’s stuck in, the whispers filling her mind, ears, and vision at this point. “Please, I need to help them!”_

_‘Allow nature to reset its balance,’ The voice, not really a voice but rather a feeling, a chill in her bones making itself known. ‘Do not intervene.’_

_“I have to!” She cries, the tears streaming down her cheeks. Like always, the Talisman controls her emotions, causing the pain and sadness to become almost unbearable. Stuck in this darkness… what else would she feel? “I am_ begging _you, please! That baby doesn’t deserve to die!”_

_‘Maybe not. But you will not intervene with nature.’_

_“I_ have _to--”_

 _‘You have to do nothing. You control nothing. You_ are _nothing,’ A sob rips through her throat as she falls to her knees._

_And then, a dawning thought manages to crawl into Arabella’s mind, pushing past the whispers and visions._

_This is the Talisman. This is a magic life force, a darkness caged within an amulet, trying to control_ her _. And for centuries, she’s allowed it._

_No more._

_“No,” Arabella snaps firmly, struggling to stand up. Her legs feel like bricks, weighing down heavily on the rest of her body, but she uses what strength she has to power through. “You_ will _let me out. You don’t control me!"_

_'Stand down--’_

_“_ I am the Host!” _Arabella screams. “I am_ The Sorceress _. Without me,_ you _are nothing!” Her breathing becomes heavy as the visions and whispers begin to fade away. The darkness no longer becomes darkness, only little wisps of shadows lurking in her vision. Where she is… there are really no words to describe it. A part of her mind, clouded by the Talisman’s control. “Now let me out of here before I_ destroy _you.”_

 _There’s nothing but silence, for a few moments. A silence so deafening, so lonely, Arabella almost wishes for the whispers would return. Anything is better than this feeling of…_ nothing _._

 _‘You’re breaking through,’ For the first time in over a hundred years, It sounds…_ surprised _. ‘You are one step closer to unlocking your full potential, Arabella Salvatore.’_

_Arabella frowns, frantically whipping around. “What does that mean--?!”_

_Before she can receive an answer, she’s whisked out._

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────• _  
_

Arabella wakes with a start, shooting up her in her bed. Her muscles feel weakened, her head is pounding, but despite this, she feels… _powerful_. Like she’s unlocked a box within the Talisman, a box filled with indescribable magic that now flows through her veins. Something that was always there, itching to break through. And now, it's at her disposal.

Someone had placed her in her bed, and changed her into a pair of jeans and a tank top. The sun shines through a window, and though everything _appears_ to be normal, the compound is oddly… _quiet_. There always seems to be some sort of racket going on, yet now, an eerie silence drifts through the walls.

Arabella shoves off the thin comforter and jumps out of the bed, speeding to shove on some shoes and get out. She needs to feed, and then find Klaus or Hayley. A horrible, upsetting feeling has settled at the pit of her stomach-- something is wrong.

“Arabella?” Marcel, who had been running down the hall, comes to a halt in front of her door, a confused frown indented on his face.

“How long have I been out?” Arabella demands, her eyes wide and frantic. Marcel continues to stare at her, as if he's not quite sure how she’s awake. “Marcel!”

That seems to do the trick to snap him out of his trance. He blinks. “A couple days, I think.”

“Shit,” Arabella curses, running a hand over her curls. She storms up to him, about to try and shove past, until she catches the overpowering scent of blood. Not just any blood, but _vampire_ blood. Marcel makes no move to stop her as she runs into the hall, standing over the railing and staring down at the courtyard in horror.

Vampires-- dozens of them-- lay mangled or practically dead. It’s a warzone, worse then when she and Klaus went up against Marcel’s army. It seems as if most of them have either died or are dead from werewolf venom.

“Did Klaus--”

“Nah,” Marcel shakes his head somberly, coming up beside her. “Elijah killed some of them, but we were attacked. It was a war, it was bound to happen. But then the Guerrera werewolves came and bit the rest,” He explains, wincing as he does so. Arabella turns to him, her eyes zeroing in on a bite on his neck.

“You’ve been bit,” She observes. Marcel nods.

“I need to find Klaus--”

“So do I,” Arabella slaps his arm lightly to get his attention. “Marcel, the witches are trying to kill the Mikaelson baby.”

“ _What_ \--?”

“I need to find them,” She tells him earnestly. “I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess they haven’t done anything yet--”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Marcel cuts in, frowning. “I got some eyes in the Quarter saying they saw Klaus and Elijah running to the cemetery, covered in blood. I think the witches might already have Hayley.”

“Or they have the baby, and Hayley’s already dead,” Arabella whispers, feeling the dread build in her stomach at the thought of Hayley _dead_.

“Let’s go,” Marcel nods. She frowns at his words.

“You’re gonna help?”

“I need Klaus’ blood,” Marcel motions to his men. “And I got a thing about people hurting kids. So let’s go stop these sons of bitches from hurting anyone else.”

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ending on a short cliffhanger because this next chapter is gonna be a roller-coaster of emotions ;)
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed it!
> 
> -Athena<3


	23. Chapter 21

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Marcel and Arabella speed to a stop in front of the Lafayette Cemetery, staring up at the entrance sign uneasily. Marcel twirls a dark object in his hand, The Devil’s Star, a throwing star that can make a thousand cuts. Apparently, the O’Connell’s have an arsenal of dark objects, and Camille had offered some up before leaving town.

“You said the Ancestors ordered this, right?” Marcel asks wearily, turning towards her. “Are you sure you have enough power to fight them?”

“I do,” Arabella confirms, nodding. “I-I can feel it. I’m stronger than before, I managed to tap into more of my powers,” She presses her lips together tightly. “You ready? When we get in there, I’ll fight off the Ancestors, and you need to go find the other witches,” Marcel nods firmly. “Good. Let’s go.”

As the two of them storm into the cemetery, the sounds of the chaos are immediately picked up. Speeding over to where it comes from, Arabella barely catches a glimpse of Monique and Abigail, hand in hand, using their magic to overpower Klaus, Elijah, and a no longer pregnant Hayley. They guard a stone table, but before she can get a real look as to _what_ is going on, a wall of Ancestral spirits blocks her path. Marcel lets out a sharp gasp, stumbling back a few steps.

Arabella, however, no longer fears their power.

She’s not sure where the spells come from, or even _what_ exactly she’s saying, but a series of chants begin to escape her lips as she holds a hand up, eyes glowing a vicious purple as she readies a spell.

Holding her hands over one another, Arabella’s chants begin to get louder and louder, breaking off into a scream as her arms shoot out. As they do, a portion of the spiritual wall disappears, the Ancestor’s power weakening with it.

Arabella continues to chant, holding both hands forward now, even as she can feel the blood beginning to trickle from her eyes and nose, filtering her vision with red. Just as she’s gotten past the last portion, her power beginning to diminish, she sees two twin teenagers use their magic to slam Klaus into a tomb.

The Sorceress stumbles forward, leaning against a stone pillar for support as she shouts out another spell, destroying their connection with the land of the living. Klaus pushes aside the crumbling stone, emerging from the tomb in confusion. His eyes land on Arabella, widening in worry.

“Arabella--”

“Don’t worry about me,” She grunts, eyes focused on where Monique and Abigail still stand. She can’t see behind them, but can only assume that what lays on the table is Klaus and Hayley’s daughter. “Go!”

Klaus snaps out of it, searching for a weapon. He settles on an iron gate, breaking apart a piece of it and shooting it straight through the Ancestral wall, and right into Abigail’s abdomen, killing her. The spirits disappear as her connection is severed, however, Monique rushes to grab a dagger from the floor, running around and holding it over the baby’s body. She uses a spell to create a wall of fire in front of her, blocking Elijah and Klaus out.

“No!” Hayley screams in agony as Genevieve uses a pain infliction spell on her from around the graves. With a last surge of strength, Arabella stumbles forward and holds her hand out, diminishing the fire and knocking the dagger out of Monique’s hand.

Marcel steps beside her, aiming and throwing the Devil’s Star. It spirals through the air, and embeds itself into Monique’s stomach, her body slashing with a thousand cuts as she sputters up blood, and falls to the ground.

The last thing Arabella sees is Marcel speeding over to the baby, before she allows exhaustion to overpower her, and pass out.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

It’s been awhile since Arabella has managed to sleep without receiving some ominous, heart hammering vision from her Talisman. However, as she blinks herself awake, she feels a sense of calm wash over her. No visions, no prophecies… that can only be good. Right?

Arabella climbs out of bed, where someone had once again laid her, looking over at the clock on the bedside table. She can't imagine she was out long, since she was simply knocked out. It’s in the evening, the sun almost finished setting, and she can hear the soft murmur of voices coming from first floor of the house.

Standing up, she slowly steps into the hallway, descending down the staircase to follow the voices. She comes to a stop in the courtyard, seeing Klaus standing by the living room entrance, leaning against the wall and looking inside.

He seems to pick up on her heartbeat, turning around. A look of relief washes over his face as he drops the duffel bag he had been holding, walking up to her. Arabella is slightly caught off guard as he pulls her into a hug, but it doesn’t take long for her to wrap her arms around her neck and melt into it.

“I wasn’t sure how long you’d be out,” He says as he pulls away, a hand brushing the curls from her face. Arabella nods, giving him a tight smile.

“I’m fine,” She assures, a frown quickly washing over. “Your baby--”

“Is also fine,” Klaus smiles softly, gently grabbing her hand and leading her over to where he had been standing. Arabella peeks her head in, a small gasp escaping her lips as she sees Hayley lowering a small bundle into an infant car seat. She catches a glimpse of a small, pale faced baby with bright blue eyes, staring up at her mother in wonder.

“She’s beautiful,” Arabella breathes, looking up at Klaus, who has a proud, yet sad smile on his lips.

“Yes. She is,” He agrees, eyes still focused on his baby girl. Arabella smiles.

“What’s her name?”

“Hope,” Klaus’ voice is barely above a whisper, as he turns back to Arabella. “Hope Andrea Mikaelson,” She recognizes the middle name-- Hayley’s birth name. It’s a sweet and heartfelt sentiment, a perfect name for their child. It’s just then Arabella realizes the baby is in a _car_ seat, and looks down at the duffel bag by Klaus’ feet.

“Are you going somewhere?” At this, a new, deep sadness rushes across Klaus’ blue-green eyes, as he hangs his head down.

“Yes,” He nods, his words heavy as he looks up to meet her eyes. “The only way to keep my daughter safe is to convince the world of her death. No one can hurt her if they think she’s already gone,” Arabella gapes at him, but Klaus’ eyes follow back to his daughter as he speaks. “I compelled Marcel to forget her birth, and everyone else who knows of her existence is either dead, or under this roof. We will send Hope to live with Rebekah until it’s safe for her to return home.”

“I- I’m so sorry,” Arabella whispers in slight disbelief. Klaus smiles sadly, shaking his head.

“Don’t be. My daughter is safe, and that’s all that matters,” He turns away from the living room, picking up the duffel bag and walking a few steps away, Arabella following. “She will return to her parents, one day. I will make sure of it. But I do need something of you, Arabella,” He stops and looks up. “Rebekah and Hope will need to be cloaked. When I go tonight to send them off, would you come with me--?”

“Of course,” Arabella quickly cuts in, nodding. “Yeah, of course. Whenever you guys are ready.”  
She expected to be waiting for a few more hours, until both Hayley and Klaus were ready to say their goodbyes. However, after a few mere minutes, Hayley emerges from the living room, red and puffy eyed, offering up a weak smile to Arabella, before turning and walking away. Klaus goes in and comes out with the car seat, nodding for her to follow him.

After securing Hope into the car in the garage, the two of them make a sneaky exit out of the Quarter, trying not to draw too much attention. Elijah and Hayley will stay behind, to set up a memorial for the Mikaelson baby, allowing every other faction to think she’s dead.

The drive is silent, Klaus sitting in the back and tending to his daughter while Arabella sits behind the steering wheel. He had offered to drive, but she had refused. He should have as much time with Hope as he can before sending her to live with her aunt.

It’s nighttime as Arabella comes to a stop in some back country roads where they had set up to meet Rebekah. Wordlessly, Klaus steps out of the car, holding his bundled up daughter in his arms.

It’s not long before Rebekah’s red convertible headlights flash across the roads. Arabella watches as the two siblings speak, hearing bits of the conversation, but mostly tuning out to give them privacy. It’s not until Klaus hands over Hope and looks back at her that she steps out of the car.

“Hey, Bek,” Arabella smiles at Rebekah, who has tears trailing down her cheeks as she holds her niece in wonder.

“Bella,” She looks up, a teary smile on her lips. Klaus sniffs and steps back, wiping away his own tears and allowing her to get to work.

It doesn’t take long to set up and complete the spell, both siblings staring at Arabella in wonder as she blinks away the glowing violet and looks up. “It’s done,” She confirms, nodding. “Both of you are cloaked. No witch will be able to find you through magic.”

“No one will find her,” Rebekah nods, holding the baby closer to her chest. She looks up at her brother. “She will be happy, Nik. I promise,” Both Klaus and Arabella watch as she turns and carefully places Hope into the car seat, which has been moved into Rebekah’s car, and drives off. For a moment, Klaus watches them go, a faraway and almost grieving look in his eyes. However, he quickly snaps out of it, turning and getting into the driver’s seat.

Once again, the drive is silent, and when they get back to the compound garage, Klaus pulls out his keys and remains seated, staring numbly at the steering wheel. Arabella gently lays a hand over his own.

“I’m sorry,” She says softly. “I know she’s safe, but… I’m sorry,” He nods wordlessly, but words don’t need to be said for her to understand.

“I need to go make sure everything went smoothly,” Klaus clears his throat. “But when I come back, there’s something I need to discuss with you.”

She nods, getting out of the car and allowing him to drive off. As he does, she goes into the building to wash up, thinking over what comes next. There’s something _she_ needs to tell _him_ as well. Something he probably won’t be too happy of, but needs to be said. For both their sakes. Especially after the events of today… it needs to happen.

Arabella is sitting on her bed, running her thumb over the necklace Klaus had given her when she hears his footsteps in the building. Quickly, she speeds down to the courtyard, almost catching Klaus by surprise.

“Hey,” She awkwardly greets, twiddling her fingers together nervously. “Everything go alright?”

“Hayley and Elijah managed to convince everyone that she’s gone,” Klaus confirms, nodding. “Now, we just need to rid this city of threats. However long it takes.”

Arabella presses her lips together, reaching up and unclasping the Talisman from her neck. Klaus’ brows furrow in confusion as she sets it down on a nearby table, walking up to him and staring him squarely in the eyes.

“Go ahead,” She nods. “Compel me to forget her.”

“What?”

“You compelled Marcel. I understand it’s what you need to do, to keep Hope safe,” Arabella smiles up at him reassuringly, to let him know she's okay with this. This only causes Klaus’ frown to deepen.

“I spoke with Hayley, Arabella. We both trust you,” He shakes his head. “We didn’t see any need to compel you.”

Arabella’s brows scrunch together, a troubled look in her pale green eyes. “I-I think you should,” She counters in a small voice, sighing. “Klaus, I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to stay here. And I know you deserve an explanation why, but I just… I can’t give you one right now. I think I should get back to Mystic Falls, help with all this Other Side crap--”

“Before you finish that sentence,” Klaus cuts in quickly, gently grabbing her hands in his own. “Allow me to say something first,” Reluctantly, Arabella nods for him to continue.

Klaus looks down, like he’s struggling to come up with the right words. And in all honesty, he _is_. In order for him to say this, he’s going to need to be completely vulnerable with her for a moment. It scares him… but his words need to be said.

“Almost losing my daughter… it put some things into perspective,” Klaus begins, looking up to meet her confused eyes. “All my life, I’ve lived as if death meant nothing to me. Because it did not. But recently, my eyes were opened to the simple fact that though I am immortal, those who I love are not. And I cannot sit idly by, allowing time to tick away without saying things that need to be said. Life is fickle, and I’d be a fool to treat it as if it were not.”

Arabella’s brows only furrow deeper. “I don’t understand--”

“I love you, Arabella Salvatore,” And in that moment, all their surroundings melt away from Arabella’s vision. In that moment, her ears only ring with the melody of his words.

_‘I love you’_

Three words, so incredibly simple. Yet, at the sound of the, she feels her heart fill with something she has been pushing away. Something she’s running from, in fear and in denial.

Something she no longer finds herself wanting to bury down.

“I’ve kept my distance, out of fear of losing you, but I came to a realization,” He continues, squeezing her hands in his own. “Our souls are two broken pieces, shattered and beaten throughout the decades of our long lives. But with you... with you, I feel whole again. These past months, you’ve helped make me a better person. A person worthy of being a father, someone who no longer turns at the thought of love. I cannot push away what I feel for you any longer."

Klaus’ hand cups her cheek, his thumb stroking it gently as she stares at him, speechless. A rather rare occurrence for her, but his words… they truly leave her stunned. His tongue flicks over his lips nervously as he looks away.

“If you don’t feel the same, that’s fine. I won’t try to stop you from leaving, if it's what you truly want. But I just needed you to kn--”

Arabella doesn’t give him a chance to finish. With both hands, she reaches up and cups Klaus’ face, turning him to face her, before crashing her lips against his. It catches him off guard, but he quickly reacts, placing his hands on her hips and pulling the younger vampire against him. One of Arabella’s arms loops over his shoulder and around his neck, her fingers gently running through his hair.

This kiss… this long awaited kiss that both of them have been avoiding out of fear of losing the other... it just feels _right_. And all those thoughts about this being wrong… about _Klaus_ being the wrong person… they melt away. Because how can someone be wrong for you, when they’re the only one who makes you feel complete? All those times Arabella felt wrong being near Klaus… perhaps it wasn’t being near him that felt wrong, but rather, the thoughts of being _away_ from him.

Arabella pulls away when the desire for air becomes too much, Klaus resting his forehead against her own. He smiles down at her, a happiness in his eyes for the first time since sending Hope off.

She bites her lip to keep from grinning so hard, peering up at him through thick lashes, still cupping his face. Arabella’s thumb’s run over his stubble, the words edging to escape her lips on the tip of her tongue.

“Nik, I--” They both flinch at the sudden loud ringing of Klaus’ phone. The hybrid looks up in exasperation as Arabella groans, laying her forehead against his chest. “Wow. _Worst_ timing.”

“Indeed,” He agrees, sighing as he pulls out the device from his back pocket. Klaus planned to silence it and put it away, but frowns as he sees the caller ID.

“Who is it?”

“Your brother,” He holds the phone out for her to see, Stefan’s name flashing on the screen. “Do you know what he wants?”

“No, I lost my phone somewhere at the cemetery,” Arabella shakes her head, frowning. Klaus clicks his tongue, answering and pressing it to his ear.

“Hello, mate,” He greets, listening. “No, she’s fine, she just lost it… Yes, she’s right here,” Klaus holds the phone out, shrugging. “It’s for you.”

Arabella raises a brow, taking the phone from him. Before she speaks, she presses it against her chest, holding back a grin as she looks up at Klaus.

“About what I was saying, just… hold that thought,” She quickly leans up on her tip toes and presses another quick and sweet kiss to his lips. Klaus holds back his own smile as she turns and presses the phone to her ear, fingers touching her lips lightly, which stull buzz from the kiss. “Hey, Stef, I was kinda in the middle of the something.”

“Ara?” Stefan’s voice catches her off guard. It’s tired, weak, and… _sad_. So incredibly sad. “I-It’s Damon.”

“Did he get bit by a wolf again?” Arabella rolls her eyes, leaning on a table and turning to Klaus. “I can have a vial of Klaus’ blood to you in a couple hours--”

“No, it’s not that,” Stefan’s voice breaks off, and by the sound of his breathing, it almost sounds like he’s… _crying_? The amusement washes off Arabella’s face as she quickly turns around, crossing her arm over her chest.

“Stef? What’s wrong? You’re kinda freaking me out,” She laughs nervously. Stefan is silent on the other for a moment, before he takes a deep breath.

“Damon… h-he… Arabella, he’s gone,” She feels like her heart stops with those words. “T-there was a spell, with Bonnie, and we were all supposed to get out… but they got stuck. Damon and Bonnie got _stuck_ … God,” He takes in a shuddering breath. “They died, Ara. Damon died.”

Arabella barely hears his last words, slowly lowering the phone from her ear. She stares down in shock, unable to process his words.

This can’t be happening. This _cannot_ be happening. It’s not true. She’s dreaming, she’s stuck in another one of the Talisman’s visions. _Damon is not dead_.

However, reality comes crashing down on her as she stumbles back, hitting a table and tripping. Klaus is by her side in an instance, catching Arabella as her legs give out on her and she numbly looks down at her hands.

“H-He died,” She whispers, looking up at Klaus.

“I know. I heard everything,” He meets her gaze with sympathy. Arabella looks back down, and it’s as if the words hit her.

“My brother… my brother is _dead_ ,” She breaks off into a sob as Klaus pulls her into his chest, stroking her hair and kissing her head. “Damon, he’s… _no.”_

Klaus holds in Arabella in his arms as sobs rack through her body, the loss of her eldest brother stinging every nerve.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love it when I give my characters .5 seconds of happiness before smashing them with a bucket load of angst :D
> 
> There's one more chapter in Part 1, and then we move on to Part 2! This book is gonna be longer than the first one so bear with me lol. Also, Part 1 was mostly keeping up with the TO storyline, but Part 2 will be a lot more unique and focus more on a storyline I'll create myself, so I promise it gets more exciting from here on out!
> 
> -Athena


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